Long Shot
by SerialStoryLover
Summary: There was a dull bleeping noise coming from somewhere just above her. And it was annoying. But she didn't seem to be able to wake up to turn it off – why was that? WillxMac
1. Prologue

**Long Shot**

_**So I've decided to run these two most recent stories together - despite my horrible experiences with doing multiple stories at a time, I think I'll be okay here, because these two are feeding and inspiring each other...you'll see why ;)**_

_**NB/ Contrary to what I'm sure must be waning hope and enthusiasm, all stories WILL be finished. (With the possible exception of the Real Don Quixote...I think that ship sailed.) I don't leave things unfinished. Stick with me if you can :) xxx**_

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

There was a dull bleeping noise coming from somewhere just above her. And it was annoying. But she didn't seem to be able to wake up to turn it off – why was that?

* * *

_The First Night after..._

The others all fell silent as Will walked into the conference room, and Charlie rolled his eyes in exasperation. Could they not just act normally for the man? He admonished himself for this a moment later , however, as he realised that although Will was probably the most upset, Mackenzie had touched each and every one of their lives, and Will McAvoy was not the only mourner here. No, _grieving_…no, _worried_ – yes, that was the word.

Will sat down at the end of the table in his usual seat, and then just as quickly got up again. He seemed to just need to keep moving. Jim watched him for a moment before deciding that he should just begin. Charlie noticed that he had not taken the EP's seat, but had sat in the one to her right where he usually was. That made him smile a little. Yes, Mackenzie had definitely managed to worm her way into everyone's hearts, and when the call came – as Charlie was determined it would – to say that she was awake and already hounding the poor doctor to let her leave, they would all breathe a communal sigh of relief.

Jim had been speaking for less than five minutes and Will had hardly listened to a word he had said. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see were the images of Mackenzie falling back against him, pain etched into every facet of her face, red seeping across her light shirt, fingers feebly grasping at his shirt, her eyes rolling in every direction; blinking, trying to focus. Then there was her immobile body, sleeping so peacefully that she almost looked as if she was –

He sniffed, and had to bite back tears. He was trying to shake the images out of his head rather violently and it was only when he felt someone's hand on his arm that he spun around and opened his eyes again. It was a very worried Charlie looking up at him, and as he looked around he saw similar expression on the others' faces too.

"I'm really sorry guys," His voice sounded far more hoarse than it had in his office ten minutes ago, but he didn't really have an explanation why as he hadn't used it since, "I can't do this."

He stood frozen for a minute before he swept out of the room and headed straight for his office, trying to keep it together until he was safely away from all the sets of eyes which he could feel following him.

As soon as he heard the door swing shut behind him, he let out a very unmanly sob and finally broke down. He had known that it had been coming for a while; had known that there was only so long that he would manage to hold it all in, so he just let himself succumb to the avalanche of emotion which seemed to be forcing its way out of his throat and his eyes.

He somehow managed to find his way to one of the seats around his little meeting table and sunk into it, shaking.

So many questions which he had no answers to were swimming around his head, like he was being sucked into a giant whirlpool with them tormenting him as he sunk further and further into the abyss.

What if she didn't wake up? Was there any way he could have stopped it? Would the last thing they did forever be an argument? Or trying to make up an argument? What if he never got the chance to hold her again? What if he would now never get the chance to explain what he really felt? Never have the chance to apologise?

He didn't hear the door open again, too busy being curled into himself, trying to pull himself together but feeling that he actually couldn't.

"Will?" Charlie's voice was soft and gentle as he placed a careful but comforting hand on Will's shoulder, trying to get Will to look at him.

"What if she doesn't wake up?" He found himself saying quietly; the idea too horrific, yet he couldn't actually get it out of his mind. His eyes were wide, as if he was watching the whole scene unfold in front of them, two feet away – the doctor gently telling them that Mackenzie would never regain consciousness and that they needed to make a decision about when to let her go (something Will was sure he would never be able to do).

Charlie looked at him pitifully, wishing to God there was something he could say to Will, could say that it would be alright; because in truth, no one could promise him that. But he realised he could do the next best thing.

"William Duncan McAvoy, listen to me. Do you think there is any way in hell that Mackenzie – our Mackenzie – would let herself sleep for too long when she knows that everyone here is running without an EP? When there is work to do?"

It was a meek attempt to get him to brighten up and Charlie knew it. It made absolutely no difference to Will's expression – he still looked like someone was showing him home videos of someone beating up his pet. He sighed desperately, knowing that he needed something to get Will to snap out of it. It occurred to him seconds later. This would work, he knew it. He leaned in closer to Will and finally turned his head so that he was forced to look at him.

"Will, do you think she would ever leave you again? After we've all been watching her kick herself for the last two years, determined to make it up to you, do you really think she would leave you alone now?"

Will stared at him for a moment, hope seeming to flicker behind his eyes for a second before the flame died again, Will shook his head, "She may not have that option, Charlie."

"She'll fight though." Charlie shot back fiercely. "She will fight until she can't anymore. And what do you think she'll do to you if she wakes up to find that you have gone to pieces over her because you lost your faith in her, and the show - _her_ show - is flopping because you're too busy moping over her to keep it going while she was out of the game?"

Will gulped, his tears finally drying up as he saw the intensity and fierceness in Charlie's eyes as he spoke about Mac.

Deep down he knew he was right. News Night was Mackenzie's baby – she had come into his office raving about reclaiming the Fourth Estate and Don Quixote after three years of radio silence from him, after the last thing she had said to him was that she had cheated on him…and she just comes in ranting about fixing the news? He let out a small laugh as he thought about it.

Damn you, Mackenzie. He just couldn't help it…

He glanced back up at Charlie and saw that the older man's expression had softened as he watched Will think. After a moment, Will nodded, and grasped the arm attached to the hand that was on his shoulder, in a weak thank you.

"You're right Charlie. She'd kick my ass to the other end of New York."

"Yes she would." Charlie smiled back at him, encouragingly. Will nodded, blinking and wiping his face, running his hands through his hair.

"Okay. Just…gimme a few minutes and I'll be back out."

"Good man." Charlie clapped on the shoulder as he stood up once more. "See you in a minute."

Left alone in the dark office with his thoughts, Will closed his eyes once more and determinately filled his head with every time he could remember when Mackenzie had been yelling at him, arguing with him, trying to make a point, being…just being the fierce, passionate Mackenzie that he loved so much.

"I'm not going to let you down Mackenzie."

* * *

**_So this is kind of the moon to Snap Shot's happy sun. Please review and let me know what you think :)_**


	2. Drawback

Chapter 1

* * *

_Drawback..._

The show had ended, and Mackenzie ran a hand over her face, trying to calm herself down. What was it with Will? The moment they took a step forward, he pulled them two steps back. They had had an argument over the last segment which had resulted in Will ignoring her instructions and continuing to question a congressional aide who clearly had no interest in giving them the facts, merely bitching about his former employer. This wasn't what they were supposed to be about.

Jim put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly and bade her goodnight. She nodded vaguely in assent and returned her gaze back to the monitor in time to watch Will sulk off set.

It had been four long months since Brian's article had been published and had threatened to tear them apart once and for all, but since then Will and Mackenzie had managed to repair their relationship quite well; both were now aware that they each felt something for the other. Beyond that, though...

Still. It was a step in the right direction. It just felt like the longest, slowest walk forward in history. For some unknown reason a funeral procession popped into her head. Geez! That had only appeared there because she was thinking about slow walking, right? Not because - but she questioned whether that was maybe exactly what this was. After all, four months...and aside from knowing that Will felt something for her, she had nothing. FOUR months? And he hadn't so much as hugged her! What the hell was she supposed to think.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind that were currently blocked from view by the angry red light of her current thoughts, a little voice called that it just looked worse right now because they were in a fight. She would cool off and so would he, and come the next broadcast they would be back to their usual bantering selves.

Well, that may be, but she wished she could believe that right now. Sure, there had been smiles, and flirting, and the occasional brush of hands and him standing too close to her, but it didn't feel like security. She did feel sure that this meant he wanted her back.

She knew he was seeing a therapist still - what if he couldn't work through everything? What if she'd fucked it up to badly?

She remembered her own therapy sessions after her stabbing - she knew they weren't exactly the kind of thing Will liked to do with people he didn't really know; and since you could count on one hand the amount of people that Will actually let get that close to him, she imagined he was probably having some difficulties in opening up the wounds he carried to this young stranger.

She slouched back onto her heels, mentally cursing herself for her need to wear baby stilettos all the time. Right now she just wanted to sink into a warm bath and never get out again.

Urgh…why did it have to be so damn complicated? Gathering her notes and calling a "Well done!" to her tech crew, she ambled wearily back towards the newsroom. She turned into the corridor just as Will came out of the studio, but she made no attempt to talk to him, or even look at him. She just couldn't be bothered with it tonight. Now that she had taken a moment to calm down, she knew it was stupid and that they'd get over it, so there was no need to rush, right? To her relief, she heard Will move off towards his own office, making no attempt to talk to her.

* * *

About an hour later, as she was packing her things into her bag there was a soft knock at the door. She looked up to find an apologetic looking Will leaning in the doorway. She froze, looking expectantly at him.

He sidled into the room and seated himself into the chair opposite his desk, looking at up at her once more when it became clear that she wasn't going to sit down and join him.

"I'm sorry Mac. I should have listened – you were right – as usual –"

She raised a hand to stop him there, an exhausted expression taking over her face. She gazed at him wearily for a moment before shaking her head and leaning on her briefcase. "Will – I just don't know what to do anymore? I mean how long are we going to keep this up?"

"Wait, Mac, this wasn't about us –" Will started, clearly desperate to make sure she understood this, but again, she did not let him get far.

"What 'us' Will – what are you talking about? Because I'm sorry to tell you that if you are about to give me some rubbish about these fights just being to do with work then I think we need to have a longer conversation sometime soon, because as much as we've tried to avoid it, this is _never_ just about work." She looked as though she was about to cry, or possibly throw something.

"I mean, _seriously_?" She threw her hands up as she finally slumped down into her chair. "You're seriously going to look me in the eye and say that you couldn't tell beforehand that the guy wasn't just out to make himself look good? You're not an idiot Will –"

"HEY!" A voice came from the door. Taken aback by the silent visitor, both and Mac and Will turned around to find a very stern-looking Charlie Skinner standing in the doorway where Will had been only moments before. He looked seriously between them before coming into the office and closing the door.

"Now," He began, with the air of an angry parent about to tell his children that they needed to share the toys or neither of them would get to play, "I don't know what the hell is going on with you two today, but I want you to sort it. Now!"

Neither of them made a sound in reply, merely looked away from each other, and away from Charlie's piercing and exasperated gaze.

"I'm not a counsellor guys, I can't help you sort out whatever issues you have with each other; but you have a team out there who want to do the show that you guys – you two – said you wanted to do. So you can't change your mind and screw them over just because neither of you can accept the fact that what you need is a dinner and a few glasses of wine!"

Both Mackenzie and Will went a little bit pink at this point; and Will even made an attempt to interrupt, but Charlie was having none of it. His expression saddened a little as he looked between them again.

"Honestly, guys, it's not fair on them, and to be perfectly honest it's unprofessional. Not to mention it's just plain sad." He moved forward a little to stand in between them at the end of the desk and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Regardless of whatever extra-curricular nonsense you two have going on – or lack of it, I guess – you make a great team; that's why I put you back together. So unless you want to give Reece Lansing a new excuse to attack you, pull it together. Fast."

With a last meaningful look at the two of them, Charlie sighed and turned on his heel to head out of the door.

Silence fell as Will and Mackenzie tried to figure out what they should say next. Eventually it was Will who broke the tension.

"We should probably go and apologise." He rubbed his forehead as he looked up awkwardly at Mac, who was looking at him in disappointment. After a moment she nodded.

"Yeah."

Will stood up and waited for her to finish packing up her bag; but as she was heading out the door in front of him, she suddenly spun back around to face him.

"But Charlie's right Will, this has to stop." Will couldn't tell exactly what was going on behind her eyes, but he didn't like the look of it. It wasn't quite defeat, but it was definitely the expression of someone who was coming to the end of their thread. That was when he knew he had to fix it. If he was completely honest with himself about the darker parts of his psyche, the reason he had taken the aide's side was that he congressman had reminded him so much of Brian – and he knew that was stupid – _ridiculously_ stupid – but that had been why. And he didn't think his and Mac's relationship could take it if he told her that. He couldn't bring himself to make her think any less of them than it seemed she already did. He still hadn't told her about the voicemail and how much it had been to do with hiring Mackenzie's ex.

He reached out and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, squeezing his fingertips gently. "Mac, I'm sorry. And I _do_ want to make this work."

Neither of the spoke. Mac had the sudden urge to just melt into the attractive looking dip between his shoulder and his neck, and just melt there, but with a deep surge of frustration, she knew she couldn't. Not anymore.

She was not sure whether he was talking about the show or them, or both; and if he was perfectly honest, Will didn't either. When it became clear that Will wasn't going to clarify this for her, Mackenzie forced herself to put a small smile of truce onto her face.

She reached up and took the hand on her shoulder in her own and gave it a squeeze, tilting her head, looking almost challenging. "Come on McAvoy; we didn't survive Reece and Leona only to fail on our own." He managed a smile back, and nodded at her.

"Agreed. We'll sort this." She turned to once more set off in the direction of the elevators, but found she had to slow down a second later when Will's hand refused to let go of her own and he fell into step beside her. He wasn't looking at her. Rather determinately, she thought with a small twitch of her mouth.

Will fastidiously looked straight ahead of him. He had no idea why he was holding Mac's hand - he was fairly certain he was acting out-with his mental capacity. It had just felt like the right thing to do. However, this meant that he didn't see the small smile that managed to creep across Mac's face.

Neither of them said anything more until the elevator doors pinged to let them know that they had reached the lobby. Both were lost in their own thoughts, and were only disturbed when Lonny's voice came from somewhere in front of them.

Mac looked up to find Will and Lonny shaking hands; he still hadn't let go of hers, and she blushed a little as Lonny nodded at her, clearly trying not to say anything and keep a straight face.

"We're going to stop in at the bar to see the others for a bit." Will told him. "That okay with you?"

Lonny shrugged. "Yeah sure. Just don't go out the back to smoke anything without letting me know first." He teased.

"If he was smoking something stronger than tobacco, would following him out there not dull your senses?" Mac asked thoughtfully. Will grinned as Lonny gave her an almost insulted look.

"Ms McHale, do I honestly look like the type of guy who would get stoned after a couple of whiffs of marijuana?" Mackenzie ran her eyes over his large guns and strong physique and then looked back at him bashfully. Will laughed properly and pulled her towards the door as she started to go a little bit red. She nudged her shoulder against him, embarrassed.

"Shut up, okay? It was a fair question…before I thought about it." Will just laughed again as he held the door open for them to walk through it.

"Mac –" He began, as they turned into the small wall of people clamouring for Will's autograph, and Mac pushed in front of him. And then what happened next happened so fast that he didn't even process what was going on.

When he though about it later he would realise that he had heard the shot as he had said Mackenzie's name – at the same time Lonny had yelled to them, and a second later he had knocked Will sideways. He banged his head lightly on the ground; enough to make him confused as to why people above him were suddenly screaming. As he managed to lift his head, he caught sight of the look of horror painted on Lonny's face as he stared at something just above him, before Lonny jumped up from the ground at what seemed like light-speed and ran towards something beyond the crowd of legs that were in Will's eyeline. Will turned to look at what Lonny had been staring at, and his blood ran cold.

Mackenzie was falling to her knees just in front him, her back rigid in a graceful arc. He could plainly see the red that was blossoming across her white silk shirt and he somehow managed to come out of his trance, force his body into movement, in time to lean forward and pull her gently against him before she fell.

As she fell back against his chest, her head rolled back against his shoulder and he caught sight of the look of pained surprise on her face. "Will –" she began before wincing in pain as her body spasmed. She moaned horribly and twitched against him as she clutched at her sternum again. It was a pathetic attempt at clawing at something. Her fingers scrabbled feebly over the source of the blood as though she was trying to scratch it off herself.

His brain finally kicked into gear and he looked up. "Someone call an ambulance now!" He yelled, pushing the hair back off her face before moving the hand to cover the one she already had on her chest. She moaned again as he pressed down on her wound, whimpering. He had never been this scared before, ever in his life. Her eyes were closed as she leaned back against him and her breathing was shallow. When he pressed his lips gently to her forehead he felt how cold she was becoming and panicked even further.

"Will!" A familiar voice called on him as he stared down at Mac. Jim crouched down next to him, complete terror on his face as he looked at his boss, and then at Will. He placed a hand on Will's shoulder, making him look at him.

"Will!" We heard the shot from inside the bar, what the hell –"

"Oh my God , Mac!" Don had followed Jim and was now kneeling down beside him, grabbing Mac's wrist to take her pulse as Maggie, Neal, Sloan, Gary and Charlie all appeared behind them. Flashing lights began to intrude on Will's vision but it was like he had become locked inside his own head, and he could only see what was going on, incapable of verbally responding to any of it.


	3. Tsunami

**Chapter 2: Tsunami**

**_This chapter is packed. A bit like everyone's emotions here. Fair warning._ ;) **

* * *

The hospital

Flashing lights and distorted sounds.

If this was all that he could see and hear, what the hell had it been like for her? Where was she?

Will walked dazedly around the ER - he wasn't even sure why he was walking? Shouldn't he just sit? But he was walking.

His brain seemed to be working at five per cent it's normal capacity. Everything seemed so slow, so sluggish...why couldn't he think straight? For crying out loud, _he_ wasn't the one who had been shot here! Wait - had he just _sobbed_?

Gentle hands pulled him around and pushed him down into one of the chairs. To his amazement, his eyes - when they had focussed - found Lonny. The guy was a rock, how the hell could he be gentle?

Behind him he could vaguely make out the huddle of journalists who had clearly just arrived behind them. He looked sharply away, blinking furiously. Some instinct that had come from nowhere was telling him he was their leader and he was meant to be strong; it was some voice that sounded like a poor imitation of Mac. Because honestly, if Mackenzie was here right now he was pretty sure she'd be hugging everyone she could without a care in the world. She'd be hugging _him_. Jesus!

Where was she? They still hadn't told him.

Why hadn't Lonny just let him ride in the ambulance?

* * *

_30 minutes earlier..._

After the others had arrived on the scene, Will had turned into something of a robot; a robot whose sole purpose in life was to hold onto Mackenzie and make sure she was still alive. But he was a pretty shit robot. Within seconds, Jim and Charlie had pulled Mac out of his arms, grateful to the others for restraining Will as he vehemently protested. Jim shrugged his jacket off to place under her head as Charlie gently laid her down, pressing his hand where Will's hand had been seconds before.

He could vaguely here Jim call out to him that they needed to have her lie down to try and stem the blood, he could hear Maggie frantically asking him if he was okay, to look at her; but all he could look at was the contorted contours of Mackenzie's face as she feebly writhed on the grind, pressing against Charlie's hold which only made her moan louder as extra pressure was created against her injury.

He didn't know how it had happened, but his hand had found her free one which had been flailing uselessly against Charlie's arm in an attempt to get him to stop. Will caught her fingers in his, and a flash of colour shot across the back of his eyes as he remembered how these very fingers had felt curled happily in his not five minutes earlier; now they grasped at his desperately.

She had clearly recognized the feel of his touch, or maybe she just wanted to see who else was holding onto her, but her eyes snapped to his. There were terrified, panicked, uncontrollable tears falling out of them. He imagined they similar to the ones he that he was surprised to realise were rolling from his own.

He was not even sure whether what she was seeing from him was reassurance, panic, terror, uncertainty, love...he had no idea. All he knew was that he had to keep eye contact with her. He couldn't let her eyes leave his, or let her eyelids close. As long he could see her eyes, she hadn't left him; she was still here.

Jim was asking her questions as he added his own hand on top of Charlie's, making Will realize just how large that pool of blood had gotten. He noticed that her eyes were slightly less focussed than they had been.

No.

But then they bulged as Jim pressed down and they left his as they rolled back into her head as her eyelids clamped shut in what could only be deciphered as agony.

Will felt physically sick. All he wanted to do was hurl. This couldn't actually be happening.

Her hand's grasp on him loosened, although there was still some pressure there - she had not gone yet.

After that he doesn't remember much of anything clearly. Everything is just blurry.

He knows the ambulance arrived. He knows that some of the AWN security guards from the lobby seemed to be holding the crowd back. He vaguely remembers Lonny holding him back and yelling at him that he couldn't go in the ambulance.

Surely this was the killer that had been aiming for him? Surely that meant he didn't need protection anymore? As it turns out he was not the one who had needed it. And now the person who had could be dead the next time he saw her.

That was the moment his body went limp and just gave up.

He didn't have any fight left in him after that realization hit him.

* * *

What felt like an eternity later - although in reality the clock opposite told him that it was merely twenty-five minutes - a serious looking medical student hurried out to inform them that Mackenzie had been stabilised and was being prepped for surgery. She had suffered a direct hit to the sternum and the slight angle of the bullet meant that it had grazed the right ventricle of her heart, and aside from the bone fracturing on impact, there was severe tissue damage and internal bleeding.

"She was damn lucky that it didn't hit her spine or her heart directly. But it did sever the aorta - that's why there was still so much blood."

The room was listening in an uneasy silence. Their huddled group seemingly in a bubble of its own - all the usual chaos of the emergency room somehow drowned by the words of this young, scrawny, clearly long over-worked man who looked younger than Maggie.

As far as Jim was concerned, this man clearly did not know that the patient he was talking about was Mackenzie McHale - _their_ Mackenzie.

Will had been hearing all of this through what seemed to be an invisible glass wall. The words seemed to be a distant echo bouncing through his ears. Thankfully Charlie had noticed and spoke for him.

"Can she see anyone before they take her to surgery?"

"Sure. Only two, though. But - oh. I'm so - I should've -" The young doctor stopped abruptly, looking as though he would happily take Mac's place at Death's Door if it meant he could leave the room there and then. He actually gulped. "Due to the intense stress her body has been under from the trauma, her body has shut down in order to kind of - preserve itself. It's a fairly normal thing with this kind of trauma."

He looked like he had suddenly reverted to being a eighth grade kid called into the principle's office to explain why he had done something stupid.

"You mean she's in a coma?" Jim asked heatedly, half angry, half incredulous at this guy. The doctor-to-be had the grace to look apologetic.

"IS she gonna wake up?" Charlie demanded, the same fire that had been in Jim's voice blazing out of the older man's eyes.

"I don't want to speculate about Mackenzie's condition after her surgery. Whilst she's in there everything is uncertain and it would be wrong of me to give you any false hopes. After the surgery, we'll know more.

I'll send a nurse along to take two of you to her room. For now, she's in the best hands that she can be."

"Not if you're looking after her." Sloan said none to quietly as the frightened-looking medic scurried away. No one answered her. "Jumped up, ambitious, smarmy little twerp!"

In fairness, Will thought numbly, it had been a speedy recovery to semi-professionalism, but it was somewhat marred by the complete lack of empathy in the first part.

"Will?" Charlie asked quietly.

Jim had been watching Will for the greater part of the medic's briefing; had noticed how he had gradually gotten paler and paler the more information he heard.

"Will, you and Jim should go see Mac before -"

"Charlie, if you want to -"

"No, Jim. You go." The older man's eyes twinkled in a sorrowful understanding which Jim was extremely grateful for. Mac was the only family he had east of the Rockies, and she'd been by his side constantly for five years.

"Will, let's -"

"I'm gonna -" Will lurched, and then faster than anyone could register he was bolting across the room, almost diving into the men's restrooms. There was a collective wince as the group heard the first wretch spatter distantly.

"Family of Mackenzie McHale?" A short, kind-faced nurse appeared at Don's ebow, looking around expectantly.

Everyone glanced at each other, not answering whilst they strained their ears. It would have been comical if the situation hadn't been so serious. Nope, from the bowels of the men's room they could still hear Will's retches. Neal clapped a hand on Jim's shoulder.

"You and Charlie go see Mac. Don and I can go check on him."

Nodding glumly, Jim shot a look at Charlie, knowing his expression was mirrored on his elder's face.

He looked down as he felt someone squeeze his hand. Following the ajoining arm to the owner's face, he found a very teary, scared looking Maggie. He knew exactly how she felt. Returning the pressure, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He had not even thought about it, but he found a single small ball of happiness warm his chest before he and Charlie turned from the others to start walking down the dimly lit corridor to wherever they were keeping Mac.

* * *

By the time Charlie and Jim were returning, Don and Neal had managed to drag Will out of the restrooms with the aid of a helpful nurse Maggie had asked to treat Will for shock.

Jim and Charlie saw Lonny standing stoicly outside one of the treatment rooms and hurried inside to find Will huddled on the bed, flanked by Don, Neal and Maggie.

"How you doing big guy?" Charlie tried to ask gently.

"How is she?" He croaked back as he sipped a cup of water.

"She's out of it. They're just taking her in now." Almost subconsciously, Jim's hand had found Maggie's as he spoke.

"They said the procedure could take six hours - maybe more if there are complications. Jim, why don't you take these two back to the other two and head home for a few hours? Try and get some rest. She's obviously going to be in there for a while."

Jim hesitated for a moment, before placing his other hand on Maggie's shoulder and starting to pull her away, nodding at Neal's questioning look.

"I'm - I'm gonna make sure Maggie gets home and then I'll come back and stay. I wanna be here."

"I wanna stay." Maggie chipped in quickly, looking determinately at Jim.

Charlie looked at the two young staffers with a mixture of exasperation and understanding. Everyone turned to Neal.

"I'm sorry, I have to pick Kaylee up from the airport in an hour - but I can come back afterwards."

Smiling slightly at the clear dedication and loyalty Mac garnered from her staff; the love, that was clearly apparent from each of them, Charlie sighed and whipped his glasses off, and pinched the bridge of his nose in his hands.

"Guys, we don't need everybody here and, as repugnant as the idea seems right now, tomorrow night we are going to have to go on the air."

There was an immediate groan from Will, who seemed to sink into Maggie's shoulder.

"We'll handle it Will, okay? We're just going to take it one step at a time. Two things are for sure: first, _you're_ not going on air tomorrow." He paused, looking sad. "And second...neither is Mackenzie. But I'm sorry, I'm - _Mac_ - is going to need the rest of you. To make sure Newsnight runs smoothly without her. "

He looked around almost apologetically at the small group, but four out of five faces looked resolutely back at him, and he felt spark of pride.

"Right. Jim, I can understand you need to be here. But Neal, Don, please go and take Sloan and Gary and you lot go and get some rest and we'll call you as soon as we know anything. As. Soon. As - I promise.

"Maggie, if you're set to stay, then that's fine, but please remember that we're going to need you at your best tomorrow. Everyone's going to have to pull their weight."

"I'll stay." She mumbled. "At least until she's out of surgery. I want to be here."

Don was looking at Maggie with slight concern, but noticing Jim's arm tightly wrapped around her whilst she supported Will, he placed his own hand on Neal's shoulder and pushed himself off the end of Will's bed, Neal following him.

"We'll see you in a few hours, okay?" He hadn't said much, but Don's voice was rough and chaffed like Will's. "Call us the moment you hear anything."

Charlie nodded and shook Don's hand, a silent prayer between the two men for their girl. To his slight surprise, Neal shook Charlie's hand too. He thought that even in their best and most productive and creative tone meetings, they had never felt closer as a team than they did right now.

* * *

_Sometime after 2am..._

The next two hours crawled. There was little talk amongst the four of them. Once or twice, Jim or Maggie ran out to get weak, disgusting hospital coffee to keep them awake (and just get a respite from the inescapable tension in the room).

Will was sitting twisting his hands and staring at a dark mark that was just above the skirting boards on the opposite walls, whilst Charlie sat next to him keeping him company and occasionally patting his knee or squeezing his shoulder.

Three hours after they had arrived at the hospital, Jim abruptly voiced a thought that had been swimming around in his head for the last five minutes.

"Charlie, what are we telling the press? Surely someone's reported this?" He was looking at Charlie in mild horror, apparently angry with himself that he hadn't thought of this earlier. Maggie's head snapped around, shocked, as Will stiffened, making Jim wince as he wished he had not blurted it out like that.

A slightly crooked smile tugged at Charlie's lips as he raised a hand to placate the three of them. "Don't worry. I took care of that on the way over here."

Jim frowned at him, confused. "But...but we were all here or at home. Who -"

"Leona." Charlie told him softly. He didn't need to look at Will and Maggie to know that their jaws had dropped at the same time Jim's had.

"Leona _Lansing_?" Maggie asked in disbelief. Charlie nodded.

"You're serious?" Jim's eyes widened.

"She called me as soon as security had called up to her secretary to explain the crowd outside the building. She said not to worry about the publicity and to keep her updated on Mackenzie's condition."

Will's head dropped, hanging low, close to his chest. Instead of questioning the new tear running down Will's face, Charlie simply put an arm around his shoulder. "She asked after you, as well Will."

"I'll call her and thank her later." He said hoarsely.

"Yeah. When we ever hear anything." Jim hissed, frustration once more seeping into his voice. He shifted away from the bed and started to pace, running his hand distractedly through his already mussed hair. His other arm was curled across his chest protectively.

"Jim -" Maggie started, but Charlie cut her off with a swift but soft glance at her.

"It's probably still going to be a couple of hours, Jim. I'm not forcing you to go, but maybe some sleep would do you good, son?"

"I'm not going!" The fire was in his eyes again, and he had to check himself a moment later when he realized that he had just snapped at his boss. Charlie's soft, understanding expression only guilted him more, and he was scared to look in the mirror behind Will's head, knowing he looks about six years old, and terrified. Because god knows that was how he felt. "I'm sorry Charlie - but could _you_ sleep right now?"

"No, sir." Charlie said stoutly, nodding at him approvingly, although the concern was still hiding there behind his eyes.

Jim knew that Charlie understood what was going on in his head in that moment; knew that he was a Vet and that he'd been in this same situation multiple times, and probably in many that were worse. Charlie understood the horrible deja vu and double uncertainty that had been rushing around his bloodstream since he'd seen Mac draped across Will outside AWN.

He knew that this must be horrible for Will, and also for Maggie and everyone else, but _he_ had been here before - personally and for Mackenzie. And as selfish and petty as he worried it sounded, he felt that his and Mac's previous experiences somehow worsened their chances. Her chances. They had already used a fair amount of their luck when they had been in the Middle East, between surviving being stabbed and being shot, along with a few other dangerous situations and near misses. But he didn't want to share his - albeit possibly irrational - fears with his friends. The look on Will's face was enough to make the coldest Ice Queen melt into a puddle of sympathetic goop.

Flopping back down on the bed's edge beside Maggie, and not even considering it strange when her head fell instantly on his shoulder, he stared grumpily at the IV tray to his left, thinking that this was going to be a very long night.

* * *

**_I promise you'll find out what happens to Mac in the next paragraph. Literally the next paragraph. Okay, I lie slightly, it takes more than one paragraph - grammar and style and all that jazz ;) _**

**_Please, if you enjoyed, give me some feedback, positive or otherwise. Even if it's five words. Writers tend to get a bit paranoid - maybe I have a reason to be? Let me know We also tend to write faster when we knew readers are eager for more :) _**


	4. Drifting

**Chapter 3: Drifting**

_**Apologies for the delay. Deadline time is coming up and being back at home is such a distraction. Be sure to keep an eye out for the Season 2 promo right before Veep on Sunday night, and for everybody else, there's always YouTube! :)**_

_**I should also say, because a few people asked: happy times are on the cards for this fic...just not yet :p**_

* * *

A long, wearisome, anxiety-filled, uncomfortably silent three and a half hours later, the exhausted rookie from the ER came knocking on the door. Everyone's eyes were immediately drawn to the newcomer, holding their breath as one, hooked on the doc's next words.

For a second it was all looking far too serious: the guy seemed to be having breathing issues himself. Will could feel the bile threatening to rise up once more through his insides. Surely - no. They hadn't waited this long just to be told...no! He had to look away, his eyes stinging again. But he found that he couldn't look away for longer than a few seconds. This man was about to reveal his future.

He was glad he looked back. The man's face relaxed into a smile. But Will couldn't breathe yet, not until -

"You'll be pleased to know that Mackenzie's surgery went successfully." Will nearly choked. "We were able to close up the torn arteries and tissue and we believe that with some rest and physical therapy, she should make a full recovery."

Maggie practically jumped into Jim's arms, and Will could almost feel every single pore of his skin jolt as Charlie's hand clapped down with brutal force on his shoulder just as his head began to fall forwards so that it rested in the palms of his hands.

Everything that had caused aggravation and agitation towards this medic earlier simply melted away. They were all smiles, relief and gratitude and the beginnings of happiness. Raising his head again, Will found his chest finally opening up again, air filling his lungs and clearing his head. The guy was definitely there - what he'd said was real; she was okay. She was going to be okay!

Meeting the man's eyes, he saw only their mutual joy that everyone had come out of this okay, and maybe a little apology there too. Which, in his current state, Will was more than happy to reward with forgiveness. This guy could go and trash his car right now for all the good it would do in putting a dent into the ballooning feeling coursing through his veins. To his confusion, though, a few seconds the man's smile slipped into a slightly more business-like, sombre expression. He did raise his hand, as if to pacify them. Maybe this kid was just arrogant, Will thought to himself. What could he possibly have to say after announcing that she was going to be fine?

"I do have to say that although Mackenzie made it through the surgery, we have not seen any signs that she is coming out of the comatose state she went into prior to surgery." Simultaneously, their faces fail again. "But - but, the good news is that we believe it was just a - a precautionary measure by her body to help her heal. Now that she has gone through surgery we expect that she'll wake up within the next two to three days." He managed a smile again, but faltered at the still unconvinced group of friends. He was kidding, right? Didn't everybody know you're supposed to give the bad news first? Who trained this guy? Or was he too conceited to turn up to that class? He obviously couldn't help himself.

"You don't sound too convincing, Doc." Jim asked in a steely voice. "'We _expect_'? Why aren't you sure?"

"I - comas...honestly? We can never be _sure_. But - look - I know I acted like a bit of an ass before - I'm new at this, and I still haven't learned how not to be a scientist about these things, but I meant what I said about not wanting to give you misplaced hope." He met Will's eyes with a hard, determined look. "But I am saying it now. I, and the highly experienced surgeons and doctors I worked under, believe she is going to wake up. I absolutely would not tell you that if I did not think it wasn't true."

After a moment of deathly silence, Will shakily stood up, slightly shocking to his three companions. The medic looked at him in confusion. He slowly, as though his limbs hadn't moved for several days, reached out to offer the man his hand. Gratification passed over his face and he eagerly accepted.

"Thank you. To you and your colleagues, really."

"We - it's a pleasure to be able to give good news, Mr McAvoy."

Will managed to stop himself from laughing. He found that he did not have the energy to dwell on the fact that this guy was a bit of a twerp, not when he had just told them that in a couple of days Mac would be telling him how she was feeling all on her own. He was feeling suddenly giddy and lightheaded. She was actually going to be okay!

"I'm sure. Can we see her? I - I'd really like to see her."

He chanced a glance down at Charlie and easily returned the grin now spreading once more across his mentor's face. Charlie shook his head, almost like he was so happy that he could laugh. He patted his hand on Will's arm, bobbing his head, smiling.

"Yes, of course, sir. She's just getting set up in recovery and then she'll be able to have visitors. But, only two, I'm afraid. It's protocol. But, I gotta say, it's late and you must be as tired as we are. When she does wake up she'll need support and somewhere to stay. If you're her family, I'd rest up. You'll be more useful to her."

Giving a nod to the group, he offered a last smile and moved off the door frame; they heard him pacing down the hallway until they heard a door open and swing closed.

Slumping back heavily into his seat, he took a moment to breathe before looking around his three companions.

Maggie looked a little frail, her eyes still red, but she was smiling at him tentatively. Jim, on the other hand, looked flat-out relieved. He was slumped back, much like Will, his entire posture clearly resembling the frame of something that had just had all the air and tension blown out of it. Charlie was the only one who looked remotely like he had any strength left in him.

* * *

A half hour later, Will found himself standing next to Charlie in the low light of Mac's hospital room. Maggie had gently pulled Jim away from her bedside ten minutes earlier, insisting that he follow the doctor's orders and head home to get some sleep. Will had been a little concerned - Jim had become somewhat cold after they had entered the room, showing emotion only towards the two women. He wouldn't let Maggie's hand leave his, but he had eyes only for Mac. Will got the distinct impression that Jim was angry with him for some reason. He didn't understand it, however. Determining not to say anything and let him deal with things in his own way, Will stood back with Charlie and let the younger man have his moment.

Now, however, he was the one closest to her, Charlie standing behind him, not forcing him to say anything, but just being there.

It was a happy-sad feeling, knowing that she was going to be fine, but knowing that he couldn't share that with her just yet. But he would. Soon. He had to believe that.

He wouldn't admit to any of the others - he could barely admit it to himself - but Jim's comment about the doctor not being certain to him hadn't quite managed to get out of his brain. It lingered, not exactly flashing across his brain like the terrifying warnings that had eaten his mind whole during the traumatic hours in the ER and when she'd been in surgery, but more like a quiet nudging in the back of his brain; like an annoying child poking it's finger at him, trying but failing to get his attention. He was determined not to let it. But he couldn't ignore that it was there. He attributed it to the steak of pessimism that frequently ran through him, a hangover from his childhood, and something which only Mackenzie McHale - and on the odd occasion, Charlie - possessed the ability to exorcise from his system.

He had been standing, frozen, for maybe five minutes before he could refrain from touching her no longer. Slowly, almost as if he was scared - or maybe nervous like he had been when he'd arrived at his prom date's house all those years ago...but then, she hadn't been a touch on Mackenzie. No one had been and no one ever would be. He had only known this feeling once before and it was a hundred times stronger now.

As he gently folded his hand in hers, his mind flashed back to that horrible day over four years ago now, when Charlie had sat him down and told him that Mac was in surgery for a stab wound she had recieved while she was covering a story in Pakistan. God, how he wished he could have done this for her then; been there for her then. But the terror of thinking she had been dead was nothing to how bad it had been to have her dying, bleeding out in his arms. Nothing could compare to that.

He paused, his eyes fixed on her eerily peaceful face.

Jim.

"That's why Jim was so quiet." He murmured. He squeezed her hand a little tighter, fighting back a fresh wave of tears, furious with himself for not realising it before, yet not knowing what on earth he could have done to make Jim feel any better about it. Really, there was nothing he could have done. Not today anyway.

"Yeah." Charlie agreed, trying not to sound too accusatory.

Charlie had tried to convince him to contact Mac that day, knowing what Will himself was desperately trying to deny: that he actually wanted to. But being as stubborn, proud, and hurt as he was back then, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Seeing her now, he wished to God he had.

"You're wallowing William." He chided softly. Will hadn't even noticed that the tears had actually started falling again. Charlie's hand gently covered his own that was resting on Mac's. "She wouldn't want you to Will. And Jim's just upset because he's scared. When she wakes up, all this will be forgotten, and -"

"Charlie, if you think I'm ever going to forget what happened to today -"

"Oh, you'll remember it." He said confidently - and Will could swear he heard a hint of Charlie's trademark grin curling his words as he spoke,"But for different reasons, I think."

Will turned, not understanding what Charlie was saying, only to find the same grin and smug, knowing twinkle in his eye that always endeared the older man to him, even when he was being annoying. He returned a curious look to his mentor, only to be answered with a slight shrug of Charlie's lips; whatever he was so knowledgeable about, clearly he was not sharing it tonight. He changed his face from curious to annoyed, just to let Charlie know that he didn't want to be messed with right now, but the older man only chuckled back at him and tapped his hand.

"Look, Will, I need you to leave with me now." Instantly, Will tried to argue, but Charlie pulled the most stern expression he could and 'looked' Will into silence. "I know you want to be here, and I completely understand why, but the doc's right - _particularly_ about you, because you are still in shock and he's right: Mac is going to need you. I want you to take the meds they gave you and take the morning - hell, even the afternoon, off. Trust us to sort the show for you and then you can come in, do the broadcast and then - whatever. Come back, go home, do what you like. I won't stop you. But take tonight, okay?"

Charlie almost wilted under Will's pained expression, but seemed to relax as Will's face showed that he was going to give in.

"I'll meet you outside in five, okay?"

He appreciated Charlie leaving him alone with her before they left. Since he'd entered the room, the great release that he had felt after the doc had informed them Mac was okay had steadily regressed back into a mild form of panic, and he could tell that it was not going to go away again until Mackenzie was awake and looking at him with those large brown eyes, the words "I'm okay" coming from her own mouth." Then he would believe it. Then he would relax.

It was so confusing now. Half of him want to drape himself over Mac and not let go of her until she was awake again. The other half wanted to slide down the wall behind him and just fall asleep, the last vestiges of energy draining slowly from his body now that he had seen her for himself, felt her warm hand under his and seen her chest rise and fall, just to be absolutely sure that it wasn't a dream.

Gently moving his hand to rest just over his heart - she was unconscious, so he didn't think she would feel any pain, but she was so precious, and looked so vulnerable that he couldn't abide the thought of causing any more hurt to her - and felt the steady palpitations beneath his fingers. It was really there. He knew he was being irrational.

Maybe Charlie was right. Some shut-eye might do him some good.

Leaning over her, he placed the softest of kisses on the corner of her mouth, another on her forehead before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Anxiety stopped him from pulling away just yet.

"Damnit, Mac." He let out quietly, the lines on his forehead crinkling in protest at seeing her like this. "You wake up as soon as you possibly can, you hear me?"

Running a finger gently down her cheek, he smiled sadly, pressed a final kiss to her forehead and forced himself to leave the room and leave her.

* * *

_**So! Two dates to bear in mind:**_

_**- Sunday 14th April: Season 2 trailer arrives**_

_**- Sunday July 14th: Season 2 premieres in the US! (Cheers Katy!)**_

_**Countdowns start here all you Newsroom geeks! :)**_


	5. All At Sea

**Chapter 4: All At Sea**

* * *

_The next day..._

His eyes opened.

Groggily, his sight came into focus as he realised where he was, and he tried to remember how he had come to be there. Everything in his recent memory was a jumble of colour, sound, movement, vibration. His sleepy brain tried to compose it all into a clear picture, but everything seemed somewhat foggy and indistinct.

Oh. He had been at the hospital. For hours. They all had been.

Turning over slowly, his muscles protesting after the eternity he had spent sitting hunched over in the hospital last night, he squinted at the alarm clock on his nightstand. Even though he was squinting, the unforgiving glare of the morning light that flooded through the glass windows - why did he have massive bay windows? Why did he not pull the blackout blinds down? Oh yeah...because he had collapsed on his bed and passed out just after he had taken the sleeping pills prescribed to him by the nurse whose face he could barely remember. He found it strange that some moments from last night were so crystal clear in his mind that they almost blistered the back of his eyelids, whereas some were so blurred and misted that he could not even make out a straight line clearly.

Grunting as he pushed his arm that little bit further to try and grapple at the clock and pull it towards him, he accidentally knocked the crystal tumbler beside it. Frowning, he forced his memory to run back through what had happened when he came home. Trying to process his thoughts actually hurt.

He could see a dim vision of him traipsing through the door, Lonny's guiding hand on his shoulder - he had completely forgotten about Lonny since he had last seen him before the Nurse came in to treat him. When Will had asked, he had not said where he had been, just "around". Will knew that Lonny had been trying to give him space, but he was touched that the guard had waited around for them; had still has all of their backs even after he had already tackled a gunman to the ground hours earlier.

He had tried to ask Lonny about the shooter, but he had simply hushed Will and shook his head slightly, saying without words that this was not the time; that he was not ready to hear it. Will's heart sank. He knew what that meant. But he couldn't think about it. Slumping against the counter, he had gratefully accepted the double scotch that Lonny handed to him. He hadn't even thought about the fact that he had pills to take afterwards. But it hadn't stopped him. Oh, if only Mac knew that he had been mixing pills and booze again. She would kill him. That brought a small lump to the back of his throat. He closed his eyes, trying to push the image of her face out of his mind.

Not yet. He needed to get to grips with himself before he could even be remotely strong enough to deal with what awaited him back at the hospital.

His fingers closed over the cool metal of the clock and he latched onto it: something solid. It blinked thirteen past noon back at him. Wow...had he really slept that long? Apparently. He should probably check his phone. Ah! Yes! Something he could do! Procedure. Routine. Normality. Except that he was doing this at midday rather than six am.

He wouldn't think about that.

Pushing himself up gingerly, having decided that he was going to get to his phone and try and do something productive, he plodded across his room heading for the door to the lounge. He stopped abruptly at the door handle though, hearing the distinct sounds of CNN coming from the other side of the door.

Curious, although certain that it was someone he knew through there, he was not sure that he was ready to see any of the potential candidates just yet.

Resigning himself to the fact that the only way to escape the visitor was to go back to bed, he pulled open the door and tried to stand a little taller. He did not need a pity party.

It was not who he expected it to be.

Sitting flopped out on the sofa, legs resting on the coffee table in front of him and his head resting in the palm of his hand looking utterly bored, was Lonny Church. Will was slightly stunned.

"You stayed?" he blurted out. Lonny's head snapped out of it's stupor. He looked at him as though he hadn't seen him in years and then quickly turned off the TV.

"Oh honey, you thought I was just going to get you in to bed and then leave? I ain't that kind of girl, Will." He reluctantly smirked. He had to.

"What made you think you'd be welcome to stay if you're going to come into my house and watch darned CNN?" Lonny grinned back, pleasantly surprised at Will's reply. For a fleeting moment it was almost like everything was normal again.

Surveying him for a second, doing what Will recognized as the usual checkover he did whenever he saw Will before they were preparing to leave a building, Lonny's expression switched to sombre as he took in the sunken eyes and pale frame, but forced it back into what he clearly hoped was to a be a reassuring smile. He knew Will would see through it, so he didn't try to hard. He wouldn't treat him like that.

"How you doin'?" He asked seriously. Will shot an unamused look back at him, but just shrugged, knowing that Lonny would not force an answer from him. Lonny returned a sympathetic smile, understanding shining on his face. Will frowned.

"Uh - have you seen my phone?"

"Yeah, it's uh. It's right over here. I gotta say I - uh, I actually didn't stay last night." Will turned his head to the side slightly, lost. "I was sitting outside, but I came back about an hour ago because nobody had heard from you. Charlie and Jim and Maggie and Don have been calling you since ten o'clock. They were worried. Really worried."

"Jeez, I only got in at the back of three."

"They know you're an insomniac Will, and they thought that because it was Mac..." Will's eyes closed as he trailed off and he turned away slightly, Lonny recognizing a textbook defensive posture and cursing himself for bringing her up so soon. "You didn't tell them that the nurse had given you sleeping pills Will. I saw them on your nighstand - you shouldn't have that drink last night."

"You checked on me?" Will asked, exasperation.

"Will, did you look in a mirror last night? Of course I checked on you. You're a mess." Seeing that Will was about to yell at him he raised a hand and continued,cutting across him, "But you're allowed to be. You went through hell - you're still in a bad place - and anybody - _everybody_ - would be upset. We get it. We just concerned."

Lonny's shoulders slumped, knowing that Will did not mean to be aggressive. It was one of those weird pyschobabble self-preservation things. He decided to try a mild guilt-trip to see if it would even things out, "Since, y'know...we're your friends."

At that Will just gave in. Looking helplessly at his (former?) body guard, he leant his elbows on the counter, letting his head fall forward and ran his hands through his ragged hair in frustration. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Lonny said simply, no question or hesitation in his voice. Will raised his head and read the open expression on his friend's face and managed a second small smile.

After deciding that Will wasn't going to blow up again, Lonny twiddled the remote in his hands and put on a mock serious look, "Of course, there is also the fact that everyone else was at work, so I drew the short straw for babysitter."

"Ha! Yeah, thank you. You should always be honest about your intentions."

"I told you, I'm not that kind of girl."

"Oh," Will couldn't quite bring himself to laugh, but he was desperately trying. He ran his hand through his hair once more, but instead of turning inwards again, he reached over to the refrigerator, "You want a drink?"

"Nah, I'm already drinking your coffee, man."

"Oh, well help yourself."

"Yeah, no problem."

Smirking to himself, Will pulled out a carton of OJ that was sitting in there and took a massive swig, closing the door with his foot and moving over to flop down beside Lonny on the sofa.

"Here's your phone."

There were twenty calls and messages, mainly from Charlie and Maggie, and few from Don and Sloan and one from Jim. He frowned again at Jim's number. It was just a simple message asking him to get in touch so that they would know he was okay. It did not seem quite as cool as the vibes he had picked up in the hospital room last night, but he could still tell that his producer was being reserved with him.

He knew what the others would be like. Snapping his phone shut, and deciding that he still needed a little time, he rested his head back against the cushions. To Will's eternal gratitude, Lonny didn't push him to speak with him or even to answer the messages.

"Anything from the hospital?" He piped up quietly after a moment's stillness.

"Charlie and Jim have called one time each. They said there's not change yet, but they also said that that isn't a bad thing. They aren't expecting her to wake up just yet."

"Yeah, they said that."

"She's a strong lady, McAvoy."

"I know. She just scares the shit out of me on a regular basis."

"She doesn't get shot every day."

"I know, I have no idea how I made it through last night. It's bad enough when she corners me and forces me to go to board meetings."

Lonny laughed at that. "Yeah. I can imagine. Though...you do tend to become a wuss with her sometimes."

"Are you kidding me? She's the only one who can hold an argument with me."

"She's the only one who can _win_ an argument with you. And admit it - it's not just because you disagree with her, you just think she's hot like that."

Will's head snapped around. Lonny met him, and burst into laughter at the undeniably territorial look on the anchor's face. "Haha, man. What? You want me to say she's ugly? Really, you're telling me that you wouldn't smack anyone who insulted her? Also, why _do_ you have a problem? It's not like you're dating or anything."

Will shrunk at the judgmental look from Lonny, accusation practically dripping from his mouth.

"Way to kick a guy when he's down."

"I'm not wrong." Came the smart reply. No. He was so, so right.

"I'm gonna go to the hospital." It wasn't a question, or something he seemed to be weighing up in his mind, it was a simple statement of fact.

"I know."

* * *

_One hour later..._

He feels a great sigh of relief when he sees the sturdy outline of Charlie Skinner standing over Mackenzie's bedside. He wasn't entirely sure he could have been in there alone with her and that silence just yet.

Stepping into the room, the smell of disinfectant and well-scrubbed floors stinging his nostrils, he eagerly tried to see past Charlie's shoulder to Mac's face.

"Thanks for calling." Charlie said wryly when he heard Will behind him. He turned, clearly attempting to give him a stern look, but apart from his crossed arms he didn't quite manage to pull it off. One look at Will and he immediately softened.

"Ah - yeah. Sorry about that. I meant to - I just - I just needed some time." He shot him an apologetic look. "I was going to call."

Scrutinising him for a moment, apparently checking him over the same way Lonny had done not so long ago, Charlie finally relented and nodded. "It's okay. Just - just do me a favour and answer next time, okay? At least for the foreseeable future." He paused for a second. "Actually, you know what, after this you're still my employee, so for the entire future you will answer your damn phone, got it?"

He actually managed to drag small chuckle from the depths of Will's emotions. That put a smile back on the old man's face.

"How long have you been here?" Will asked, edging further into the room, creeping slowly past his boss to get a closer look at the sleeping figure on the bed. He could tell without even looking that Charlie had reverted to analysing him again.

"About twenty minutes. Jim called Mac's parents when he got into work earlier. They were pretty shaken up and they wanted someone to check on her. I didn't think Jim coming was such a good idea just yet. He'll come over before the tone meeting."

Will had frozen again. How could he have forgotten? He couldn't believe himself! He turned, stricken, back to Charlie. The older man seemed to sense what was about to come out of his mouth because he raised a hand to try and head him off, but this time Will would not be stopped.

"Oh my God, Charlie! I forgot - I - I forgot! How the hell could I forget - they're her parents!" His hair received another vigorous raking from his twitchy fingers, as his eyes strained. "They're her parents and I'm - and we - oh my god! They didn't know -"

"WILL!" Without even thinking both men looked at the figure on the bed. Just in case. No change, though. While Will stared, devastated at the lack of movement, Charlie tried again, his voice far softer,

"Will? Don't beating yourself up about it. Jim explained everything, he knew and they knew that you were a little preoccupied last night, okay? They even asked after you. Just - hell, I mean, I was mad that _I_ hadn't thought of it. No one had. We were all in shock. Her parents were okay; they were just glad to hear that she was going to be fine. Breathe."

He ended up doing the opposite - kind of holding his breath until his eyes popped - but when he exhaled again at least he looked more like though he wasn't going to have a panic attack.

"Will?" He didn't turn around. Instead, he gently took Mac's small hand in his, and for some reason was warmed by the fact that her body was warm also. He knew that logically it shouldn't have been cold. She wasn't dead. But she could have been, and he clearly wasn't over that.

Great. He was sounding like Habib.

He gently lifted it to his lips and kissed it, holding it to his heart as he leaned over her and gently stroked her forehead, placing a kiss there too. "I'm so sorry." He murmured into her ear, hoping that somewhere in there she could hear him.

"You know they think that coma patients can still hear what's said to them while they're out." Charlie said quietly somewhere behind him. Will couldn't stop looking at her face. But he heard Charlie's words. "They sometimes remember things afterwards."

"How is Jim?" Will asked after a few moments silence. There was an audible sigh from behind him. He finally turned, looking expectantly at his troubled boss.

"He's clearly taken a lot of lessons from Mackenzie." Well that was diplomatic. Will frowned. Charlie was obviously dodging, the question was why. Surely he knew that Will already had a good idea of how Jim might be feeling, so why not just say it?

"You trying not to guilt trip me?" What else could it be?

"What makes you think it's about you?" Charlie replied staunchly. Okay, now Will knew he was covering for Jim.

"What did Jim do, Charlie?" He was worried now. Had Jim lost it? Snapped at someone? Done a 'Neal' and put his hand through a computer screen? Mac would kill him if anything happened to Jim while she wasn't around.

"Jim did nothing." Came the firm reply. Charlie's feet were shoulder length apart and his hand rested firmly on the rail at the end of Mac's bed. He was stood straight, head held high, and it was the pose that Will had come to believe had been his military demeanor - or his true military demeanor; Will didn't think he had ever totally shaken it. He still saw it in the way Charlie walked and held himself sometimes. It had definitely softened, but he supposed that the horrors of Vietnam were something that did not let forget it easily. This was the stance he used when he meant business. If you didn't comply, his used his voice and he got angry. What the hell was going on?

"Jim did nothing, although I don't think anyone would dare say that he is 'okay'...but you already knew that part." Will nodded. "But I don't want you worrying. Considering what's happened, that team of yours is doing damned fine work and helping each other hold it together. Jim's learnt a lot from Mac, he's a good leader."

Knowing that he wasn't going to get an argument in edgewise here, Will did the scrutinising and tried to see if he could figure it out that way, but again, Charlie had been a soldier and he had a damn good poker face. He did purse his lips though. Will caught it.

"But there is something else." Will raised his eyebrow, deciding that Charlie had won the clash about Jim, but this - this he was going to get to the bottom of.

Nodding wearily, Charlie dropped himself into one of the seats next to Mac's bed and took his glasses off, running a hand over his face. He motioned for Will to do the same, but instead of taking the other seat, Will gently sat in the mattress space next to Mackenzie's thigh. Charlie managed a small smile before he seemed to remember what he had been about to say.

"We were going to tell you when you came into work, but maybe it's actually better that you hear it now." This didn't sound good. Charlie fixed him with a resigned stare, and tried to speak in a placid tone. "Leona managed to keep the press at bay over night Will, but someone tried to kill you, and they hit your EP who you have a history with...it's a story. Like we thought it would be."

Will stared at him. "In all honesty Charlie, I hadn't thought about the press having a reaction to this at all."

"Will, you're the second most-watched news anchor on TV, what did you think was going to happen? That they would just pass over it?" Calm, resolute Charlie seemed to have gone to the little boys room, because the man before Will was now agitated and twitchy.

"No, Charlie, I wasn't thinking! I _couldn't_ think!" Charlie seemed to ease at that. "As you said - I was a little 'preoccupied'." Charlie didn't say anything, just stared at him with concern pouring from every contour of his face. Will turned back to look at Mac, the one person who could help him through this and the one person who he couldn't talk to right now. he gently traced her knuckles with his thumb. He knew that Charlie hadn't mean to be snippy.

"I take it you've already had to deal with some press, then?"

Charlie hissed, offering a clear affirmative.

"She'd be insulted that journalists like that were coming after the creator of 'three I's and an A'." Will scoffed.

"She used to work for CNN, remember? You're honestly telling me that they weren't in the press pool?"

"CNN didn't have 'three I's and an A'." Charlie replied stoutly. Will grinned.

"So that's what was wrong with Jim? The press were hounding him?"

When Charlie didn't answer, Will looked back to him. He seemed...reluctant? He was looking at Will almost as if he was sizing him up. Tilting his head to the side, he tried to find what he wanted to say. "Jim...well, Jim - Look, I think you should talk to Jim, okay?"

"I don't think I'm his favourite person right now." Will said quietly.

"You're not, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't talk to him." Will didn't answer. "Look, Will, it's not just the media covering the story -" That got Will's attention again. Charlie looked like he'd rather die than continue, "It's that we _are_ the media."

Will understood. And he paled immediately. Charlie moved forward as soon as he saw it.

"We have to report this?" He tried to act incredulous, pass it off as ridiculous even though he knew Charlie was right. Charlie clearly clocked on to what he was trying to do, but he knew it would be good just to talk Will through the reasoning, since he clearly wouldn't - or couldn't - accept it.

"Will, we are one of the highest rated news programmes on the air. We stand for truth and free media and last night our anchor and our EP - the faces of this project - were shot at because someone didn't like what you said in a newscast once upon a time. It's an attack on free speech, so of course we need to report it. If you need another reason then it's that we'll sound cold and heartless if we _don't_ say anything. It happened to one of our own."

"Cold and heartless or traumatised and upset!" Will fired back. He knew he had blurted something out again, but aside from a sympathetic look, Charlie didn't press him on it, which he was extremely grateful for. Actually, now he thought about it, Charlie had been great. He would buy him the finest bottle of bourbon he could find when all this was over. Or, actually...they may need it before this was over.

Charlie fixed him with a look Will couldn't quite read, inwardly grateful that the part about the gunman's identity seemed to have been drowned by what came after. he hadn't meant to reveal that just yet.

Will thought Charlie looked like he was being reluctant again. "I know you are. Which is why I don't think it's such a great idea for you to do the show tonight. I think Don and Elliot should do it instead. Between you and Jim..." Charlie shrugged, obviously trying to let him down lightly, but it wasn't working. Will was torn.

Charlie was right: he didn't really want to go on the air in front of millions of people that night, all of whom who would all be watching him, just waiting for him to break down. But, he also didn't want to let down Mackenzie. He knew that right now, her words to him would be something along the lines of "there's a team of young journalists that we helped train that are probably lost and scared right now. You're their leader; do your job and stop worrying about me."

It was almost like her voice was whispering in his ear right then. He wished with all his soul that it had been. He just wanted to talk to her. That would be enough right now. He'd want more, but it would be enough. Why had he waited this long?

"She'd want me to do the show, Charlie."

"She'd want you to be okay, Will. She wouldn't want you to lose it on air because of her."

"Well since she's not here to tell us who is right -" Will snapped back. He didn't know what to do. He was so unsure. He wasn't totally convinced that Charlie was right, worrying that his feeling that he shouldn't do the show was coming more from a place of fear and vulnerability than from the side of him that was attuned to Mackenzie's wishes. Not from the part of him that he wished he could see right now - the side of him that she had always brought out in him so strongly: the leader. The one who was braver and who took the tough decisions and took the heat off everybody else because he knew that was his role in things.

"Do I have to decide now?" His voice cracked on the last word. Shit.

"No." Charlie replied softly, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, offering what support Will would let him. "But I need to know by four." Will nodded.

"Why don't you come in to work for a couple of hours and see how you do, and then we'll take it from there."

"I'll come at three."

"I'll make sure Lonny knows." Will nodded, turning to back to Mac and resting his forehead against the hand he held in both of his, trying to figure out what to do. Charlie looked at him hopelessly, not knowing what else he could say.

Clapping him once more on the back, Charlie started out the door, calling one last thing over his shoulder. "And I'll make sure there is some lunch for you as well!"

* * *

The afternoon Will spent at ACN had been tense, to say the least.

Once he had arrived there, everyone seemed to be treating him so delicately - talking to him in soft voices, speaking to each other in soft voices, not doing their usual frantic thing of running around like crazy to put their stories together, electrons practically sparking through the air. Hardly anyone knocked on his door, and the darkened glass of Mac's office seemed to shine out as brightly as a lighthouse beacon.

To Will's utter relief (which he noted seemed to be happening a lot in the last twenty-four hours) some kind person - though no one would admit to who - had already put together a segment for the B block about the shooting. It was clear, concise, with no excess emotion, and (Mac would be proud) it only stated the facts. There were a few small lines about Mac's reputation at ACN and what her staff thought of her.

He thought he could handle that. Just about.

The other problem, as Charlie had hinted, was Jim. As an EP he was doing an excellent job, but it didn't go anything further than what they were planning to include in the _rest_ of the segments. They didn't speak about the shooting segment other than for Jim to check that Will was okay with it. He was clearly more upset than he was letting on, but he refused to let anyone talk to him about it.

Charlie was right about that too: classic Mac tactic. Except with him. Mac had always opened up to him - or he had gotten her to open up to him.

Jim was having none of it though. Through the window of his office, Will could see Maggie and Neal trying talk to him, but no one seemed to know the right thing to say.

Will managed to hold it all in until the tone meeting. Until he was actually sitting in the room with everybody else watching Jim do Mackenzie's job for all the wrong reasons.

"I'm really sorry guys," His voice sounded far more hoarse than it had when Charlie had come to fetch him from his office, and he didn't really have an explanation since he hadn't used it since, "I can't do this."

* * *

Five minutes after Charlie had left Will in his office to gather himself together again as best he could, the anchor returned to the conference room and tried not to think too hard about the ghostly nature of his staffers' faces. That little moment he before had definitely not instilled any confidence or comfort in his young team. Damn. Charlie was so right. Mac would hound him for this.

After seeking a fleeting nod from the man in question, Will cleared his throat and forced himself to look around the scared set of faces that were turned to him. "I'm sorry everyone. Jim, please continue."

Turning to Mac's right hand man - who he now realised was his right-hand man - he discovered that Jim was staring at him too, but in a very different way. He had that deer-in-the-headlights look about him. Some of the cogs that were related to the "boss" aspect of his psychology started turning at last, and he knew instinctively (because there was no way that the rest of his mind was actually functioning normally again yet) what he had to do. Had anyone even asked Jim?

"Jim?" The man's eyes seemed to focus again. "Jim, if you need - if you don't want to do this tonight, I'm sure Don -"

"I got this." It was said firmly, stoutly, almost defensively. Will had only been trying to help him, but apparently it was the totally wrong thing to say; Jim's eyes had flared. Aware that he probably looked like a goldfish, he nodded numbly and broke Jim's gaze, turning to walk to the other end of his table to his seat. As he passed Charlie, the older man simply shook his head, silently telling him not to worry - yeah. Right.

Don, who had looked tense after Will had brought his name up exchanged a strained look with Maggie, both of them worried.

And so they began what was easily the most awkward tone meeting News Night 2.0 had ever had, up to and including the email and the Brian fiasco. There was a notable similarity, however.

Everyone was treading on eggshells between the anchor and the EP.

* * *

Somehow, he managed to get through the evening's broadcast without breaking down again. Though every time he heard Jim's voice in his ear rather than Mac's he wanted to cry, or punch something. But the thought of what she would do to him if he did kept him level.

He could also see how subdued everyone else was, but he couldn't find it in himself to be supportive just yet. He wasn't strong enough.

"Will!" He was heading back into his office as the staff, subdued, began to cool down the bullpen after the numbing day they had just had.

Will was aware that it was Charlie who was on his way over to him - he could see him out of the corner of his eyes - but he found himself casting his gaze systematically over his - _their_, he checked himself - staffers. Like he needed to check that they were..okay? No. Coping? Maybe that was a better description.

He could see Don hovering over Sloan whose face seemed to be strained and contorted as she fiddled with something on her desk, ignoring her coat which Don was holding limply in his hands. Tamara and Kendra were perching side by side on one of their desks, he couldn't remember which, and they seemed to be having a very slow, pause-filled conversation. Other staffers were leaving in dribs and drabs, but he noticed that no one was doing so alone; they were all bunching together into some group or another.

And then there was him.

"Will." He turned slowly to face Charlie, and found the man looking at him worriedly, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face. It made Will feel slightly nauseous. What could he possibly be smiling about?

Seeming to understand his current confusion, Charlie put a comforting hand on Will's arm, obviously pushing aside his own feelings for the moment.

"You did good Will. She's be proud of you for keeping your head and doing your job. She _will_ be proud. Just give it a bit of time, okay?"

He found that he could not respond to that. He just choked up when he tried. Instead, he managed, "I'm going to go sit in the hospital for a while. You're welcome to join me." A new flicker of concern crossed Charlie's face.

"Don't drive yourself to the ground over this William. Remember what we said earlier - she'll hand your ass to you if you lose yourself over this."

"But what if _I_ lose _her_?"

He hadn't meant to say it, it had just tumbled out; and it had sounded more desperate and more like a plea than anything he come out with so far.

"Oh Will." Charlie apparently couldn't say anything else to that, merely tightened the grip his hand had on his arm. There was a clatter to the left of them.

Turning, they saw a defeated and torn-up looking Jim Harper slump forward against his desk, one hand bracing himself and the other cradling his face in his hands, his pencil pot falling victim to his woes and scattering its contents across the desk.

"You should talk to him." Charlie murmured.

Will was too weary even for the surprise to show on his face. Somehow he thought Jim might have more vivid things on his mind right now than a deep, emotional chat with his boss' boss who happened to be his boss' ex-boyfriend. There was a deep sense of relief when Maggie and Neal floated over to him and started to console and occupy him.

He decided he was also too tired for anything other than honesty with Charlie right now. He was too raw, too vulnerable, too beat to be able to put up any of his usually strong defences that he raised whenever she was the topic of conversation.

"I can't right now, Charlie. I'm sorry. I can't do that yet." His vision tunneled and seemed to narrow down to the tiny TV screen fixed to the wall that had happened to be in his line of sight when he had said that. He seemed to sense the sympathetic look that Charlie was giving him, needing no more than simply his presence next to him, the knowledge that Charlie was with him and was going to to help hold him up and help him hobble along the dark, dark tunnel that he could see ahead of him for the next few days. Hopefully days. Less would be good. Charlie's solidarity meant the world to him.

* * *

They had been sitting beside Mackenzie's bedside in silence, idly chatting about one of the other stories they had covered that evening. Even after the tiny lift Charlie had managed to give him following their conversation in the office, they had then had to get out the building.

On their way in, Charlie had ensured that Will had come in through the service entrance that the kitchens used to take deliveries; now it was closed and Will had had to face the ferocity of the press gathered outside the AWN building. They were clamouring and yelling in his ear, brandishing voice recorders and cameras in his face. The bustle and confusion of the crowd was all too similar to the confusion he had experienced on this same spot the previous evening. Charlie and Lonny noticed, and flanking either side of him, pulled him through the crowd, forcing those pressing in on him away as best they could. Will sunk into the car and put his head in his hands.

Despite deciding not to when he had done the B Block segment, he had added a small addendum at the very end of the broadcast, saying that he had to make a particular thank you to his team and that he wished Mackenzie a speedy recovery. It had felt right, and he had only had a slight quiver in his voice as he said it. But he hadn't said anything since.

Both Maggie and Sloan had given him hugs that he tried but failed to get out of - he simply couldn't reject them. Neal and Gary had both grasped his hand, and everyone else had either patted him on the back or said something. Jim had managed a nod, before quickly gathering his things and leaving.

After ten minutes of sitting in silence, Charlie made an abrupt in take of breath, alerting Will once more to the fact that he was there. He had been so caught up in memories of him and Mac as he stared at her, that he had almost forgotten the man sitting next to him.

"So I've decided something." He said slowly. Will turned to him, curious. The older man eyed him warily, like he was not a hundred percent certain that he was doing the right thing. "I was in the control room during the broadcast this evening and I've decided that I am going to tell you what's going on with Jim."

"I thought he did well tonight."

"Agreed, he did. Brilliantly, in fact, Far better than I thought he would considering he has PTSD."

Will's eyes widened.

"As does Mackenzie." Charlie continued quietly, in a much quieter voice. Will stared.

It was true that Charlie had been a stellar friend - a rock - since the shooting, but he had also dropped more than a few choice surprises on Will in the same period of time.

"What?" Will asked, the back of his throat suddenly terribly dry.

"They have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." Charlie said calmly, fixing Will with a steady look and hoping it would keep him calm until he had finished speaking.

"You know that Mac was stabbed in Islamabad, and I assume you've realised that Jim was with her." Will nodded, apparently hooked on his every word. Charlie took a breath before continuing, "What you don't know is that they were in more than a few hairy, violent situations, and that on once such occasion, Jim got shot."

Will was looking at him as though he had just said his first word, but Charlie could see the fight brewing behind his eyes.

"Mackenzie was with him, and she and two of her team carried Jim to a local doctor they knew would help him. The area they were in had been under curfew and they had broken it to talk to some reluctant witnesses. Darkness was the best way to do that. But they ran into a gang who were also breaking curfew, and things got messy. They had to scramble before an army brigade made it to the scene, but the curfew and patrols on the streets made it difficult to move quickly, so Jim lost a lot of blood. He and Mac had only been working together for seven months, so as you can imagine, she was still a little lacking in confidence and - and she took it especially hard."

"You mean it had only been seven months since she ran away?" Will asked in a strangled voice, his eyes watering.

"Yeah." A definite note of guilt could be heard in Charlie's voice. He'd already just dumped this on Will and now he was adding in the timeline. But he needed to know.

"The main thing is, Will, that not only was Jim reliving Mac's stabbing yesterday, but he was probably reliving his own shooting, and it also probably give a good shot of adrenaline to his PTSD. That's why he's being distant - he doesn't know how to tell anyone.

"In a similar way to you, the only person around here who's truly going to understand what he's going through is lying on that bad. Her and maybe me." He added as an afterthought. Will looked at him, lost. Charlie met his eyes again, looking slightly upset himself. "But I'm not the one he wants, I can only do so much."

"So...since you both need the same thing, maybe you can try and talk to him. I know Maggie's trying, but I don't want him doing this alone, and if he does something stupid, Mackenzie will kill both of us when she wakes up."

Will was still looking at him with a slightly dumbfounded look on his face. Shaking his head, Charlie eased himself out of his chair, and touched a hand to Will's head.

"Just think about it, okay? I think maybe the two of you need each other." He pulled his arms through the sleeves of his tweed jacket and straightened his bow tie. The man still believed in proper class. "I need to get home to the missus. She sends you her love."

Shooting him a last worried look, Charlie left, leaving Will to turn over the debris of the bombshell Charlie had just dumped on him in his already messed up mind.

* * *

**_Just in case I'm confusing anybody, this is the chapter the prologue would have fitted into. Please send me a wee review to let me know what you thought. Constructive criticism welcome :)_**


	6. Life Raft Pt I

_**So, sorry folks for the ridiculous interruption of life. It's always annoying like that. But since this chapter is going to end up being 9000-10000 words long I thought I'd be nice and post it in two parts. It could do with a break anyway. Second part will be done by Sat/Sun. Hooray for my penultimate piece of coursework on Friday! :) **_

**Chapter 5: Life Raft Pt. I**

* * *

_The Second Morning After..._

Jim Harper sat bolt upright as though someone had shocked him with an high voltage cable. Disorientated and feeling somewhat discombobulated, he rested his weight back on his arms and tried to slow his breathing down. Which was when he realised he was panting. Why was he panting? Moreover, could he hear the metropolitan chatter of Manhattan? He had just been...

His phone bleeped from his nightstand. He reached over for it and found himself slightly restricted by his t-shirt sticking to him horribly. It reminded him of those mornings in Pakistan when he would he would wake up to ninety degree heat at six am. The fog faded from his mind as he realised it. Pakistan. Islamabad. That was where he had been moments ago.

Forgetting his phone for a moment he let himself fall back onto his pillows and closed his eyes, allowing the sounds of the city to envelop his ears, reassuring himself that he was definitely in New York. After a few minutes his breathing evened out again. He was really in the mood for a cold shower. He needed to get the sweat off his back.

His phone chirped insistently again and his eyes finally opened.

It would be work. Work would take his mind off things.

Though he didn't think it was possible at that moment, a small smile managed to tug at his lips as the name of his texter flashed up on the screen.

_Morning! On my way over with coffee. You better be up._

OOOOO

Across town, Will blearily began to wake with a very odd feeling of numbness along his spine, like he couldn't feel his neck. It was only as he felt the warm hand resting next to his forehead that he realised that he must have fallen asleep in Mackenzie's room. He deftly raised the hand that had curled over Mackenzie's knee during the night to the back of his neck so that he could ease himself back into his seat, trying to move his neck as little as possible. The early sunlight was once again bleeding through the blinds; he instinctively looked to her face in the vain hope that he would find her large, chocolate eyes staring back at him, a sleepy, happy smile curling around her lips. But no. She was still fast asleep, her eyes peacefully closed, and a slight movement of her lips as she steadily puffed air in and out.

His heart sank. Why on earth did he keep getting his hopes up? Following the shape of her body to where his other hand rested gently just above her elbow, his fingers were curled possessively around her limbs as if he had thought she might float off during his sleep.

He smiled sadly at her inanimate face, gently trailing a finger from the top of her shoulder to the tip of her middle finger. Nothing. But her skin still felt soft and warm. He would just have to keep hoping. Keep waiting. He would not give up on her. He suddenly became aware of a pair of eyes watching him.

Twisting around, he caught sight of a petite looking nurse fiddling with some saline bags on one of the wheeled medicine trolleys at the back of the room. She was looking at him with a well-worn expression of sympathy. She gave a small smile when she saw he had spotted her, and picked one of bags in front of her as she approached slowly.

"Good morning, there. My name's Julie. I'm guessing we'll be seeing a lot of you over the next few days?" She was clearly trying to be nice - _she_ had obviously managed to pay attention during the bedside manner classes that the first night's doctor had blatantly missed. Will wasn't entirely sure he was awake enough to return the sentiment however. Not yet, anyway.

"How d'you figure that?"

"Well, usually in cases of coma patients, people don't start sleeping over for at least a few days. They usually just never leave during the day." She smiled knowingly.

"Nice to know I'm bringing a little variety into your life then." He replied dryly. She just nodded at him as she concentrated on changing Mac's meds. "What's that going to do?"

"It's just to help maintain her fluids whilst she's unconscious." Will nodded, rubbing his eyes with his free hand and yawning. "Do you mind if I ask who she is?"

"She's my executive producer."

"It's News night, right? My boyfriend loves that. I'm never home, but he's a researcher at a lobbying firm, so he's really into politics. Says you guys say it straight and skip the bullshit."

He felt his throat go very dry at her words. That was all down to Mackenzie. The woman responsible for her boyfriends' enjoyable evenings was lying in the bed in front of them. "I uh - yeah, yeah it's News Night. And that's all thanks to her. It's her baby."

"I'm sorry." Julie said quietly.

"Do you know if there's been any change in when she's going to wake up?"

"So she's not just an executive producer, huh?" If it had been anyone else Will would have snapped and told them to mind their own damn business. But Julie had a gentleness in her eyes that somehow got past his defenses. Unfortunately, he also had no idea what answer to give her. She was indeed more than a producer, but what the hell was she?

"No, she's a little bit more than that."

"Uhuh." Julie grinned. He returned it half-heartedly, wishing that he could...well, wishing that he had the right to say something more substantial. "Well, let me give some advice right off the bat Mr. McAvoy," Will looked up at her, wondering what on earth she could be about to tell him. "She's not going to waking up anytime today. But when she does, she's going to need her - whatever you are - so the best thing you can do for the both of you is go home, clean up and get some sleep and have something to eat."

"You sound like my boss." Will said, annoyed, looking away from her again and focussing once more on Mac's face, somehow feeling that the need to be able to see her was somehow more urgent now that someone was insisting that he leave her again.

"He sounds like a smart guy." She said softly, looking at him rather imploringly and trying to get him to listen to her.

"I'm allowed to stay." Will insisted.

"Well, if I really wanted I could make you leave 'cause it's outside visiting hours." Will glared, "BUT! But. I'm not going to because I know you want what's best for her."

"How -"

"Because you're not the first person I've seen in a situation like this. You're not even the tenth so don't try and be smart about it. I guarantee I know more about this than you do, and I'm just trying to help. Postponing your life until she wakes up again isn't healthy, and it's only going to make things worse for both of you when the time comes. You want to be able to help her then, right?"

"Why are you doing this? Don't you have some sort of protocol for not getting involved in patient's lives?"

"You're not a patient." She shot back, and he rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm telling you this because my job is to look after people. There's not much I can do for her right now, but maybe helping you will pay off for her later. Besides. Keep doing this and you'll probably end up being admitted for exhaustion, in which case you might end up being my patient after all."

Will looked back at her slightly with a sulky face. He'd met his fair share of doctors before - both for personal reasons and for business. None of them had the spunk that young Julie here was showing. He knew he had clocked her.

"So what made you want to become a nurse then?" She seemed taken aback for a second, but after that he had to hand it to her because she picked up on his little ruse straight away.

"I was a psychology major. Second year. My Dad had a stroke - ridiculous for someone his age - none of us could understand it. My mom passed when I was a kid - it was just me and my brother - no one else to look after him and we couldn't afford the health insurance. So I dropped out, worked to get a scholarship and here I am." She held Will's gaze steadily and the hand on her hip told him that she really was not going to take any of his bullshit. "I'm not saying I don't completely understand your need to be here, I'm just warning you now that you're going to regret it when you burn-out taking care of her later because you didn't look after yourself now. Believe me, I've been there."

Her eyes softened as Will's own face relaxed. In his head, he knew that she was right. He was just unsure what he was going to find harder to handle: letting go of Mac's hand or managing to stay away from her for any extended period of time.

"Give me half an hour, and I'll go. I'm going to be at work all day anyway, so just - just let me have a bit of time with her now?" It was a compromise - definitely a slightly desperate one (he was seriously pushing it if he was going to be able to get home and change and still be in on time for the pitch meeting).

She bit her lip thoughtfully. "Well, I think you could maybe do with having a half day or something. You need to rest a little bit - and before you try arguing with me, sleeping vertically against a hospital bed does not count as rest. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt and told plenty of other people the same thing. I actually sell the t-shirts. This boss of yours sounds like he's got his head screwed on a little more firmly than you do right now, I'm guessing he'll be okay with it."

"You are way to young to be this sassy." He muttered.

"I thought you were supposed to be sassy when you're young and sarcastic and bitter when you're old." She teased.

"I'm not sure I was ever sassy." Will shot back, and she grinned.

"I don't get to watch your show, but in my opinion calling the Tea Party the American Taliban was pretty sassy."

"I'm fifty six."

"Clearly not mentally."

"Now we're getting metaphsyical?"

"In this place they encourage us to open our minds."

"I think you're just bummed that your 'age theory' clearly is not applicable."

"Or maybe you're just the one who doesn't fit right. After all, you're putting on a great show of being sarcastic and ever so teensy-weensy slightly bit bitter right now."

"Yo!" A voice from the door drew both of them away from their ridiculous argument, and as he looked away it occurred to him what Julie had been attempting to do: draw his attention away from Mac. Damn, she was good. The voice belonged to Lonny.

"Just thought I'd give you a heads up, Charlie called to say that he booked you an extra session with Habib this morning. You gotta be there in a hour."

There was a moment's silence as Will pondered the depths of Charlie Skinner's ability to interfere in and manipulate his life. Then he turned to Julie.

"Well that thing you said about wanting me to rest? That's definitely not going to happen after I see this guy."

* * *

"Good morning Will." Habib said, his usual levelled cheerfulness replaced by a more reassuring, steady tone of voice. Will ambled past him into the familiar room wondering for the hundredth time in the last forty minutes why he had blindly followed Charlie's instructions and come here. He also wonders whether Lonny would have let him get away with not going.

Flinging himself into his usual chair, he let his head rest against the back of it for a brief moment, trying to calm any agitation he might be feeling, because as much as he didn't really want to be there, it was not the young shrink's fault either. This was entirely Charlie and he'd be sure to remember that during every time he got angry in the next hour, which he was sure would be a regular occurrence.

Opening his eyes once more he found Habib already seated and watching him carefully. Usually, Habib was more subtle about his observing - he was usually better about hiding his concern, trying to seem more placid and accepting. Today Will was sure Habib wouldn't let him off with "I'm fine". There was no point in pretending that they were oblivious as to why Will was there.

"How is she?"

He debated throwing back a nonchalant "Who?", but once more caught himself and remembered _Charlie_, not Habib. God, this was going to be horrific.

"She's in a coma."

If he didn't know any better, he would have said that Habib let it slip for a moment and let the shock show on his face. No, wait, he _was_ actually showing shock.

"God, Will, I'm sorry. Have they made a prognosis yet?"

It occurs to Will that Habib is the first person - Julie excepted (but she doesn't count since she does not actually know him) - who he has seen who was not actually at the shooting.

"They say she'll wake up in the next few days."

"You don't look too happy about that." Jack prodded gently.

"I'll be a lot happier about such an excellent prognosis once I see her eyes open." Honesty won out over everything else because he honestly did not think that his mask was anything close to opaque at that moment. He was probably as reflective emotionally as a mirror.

"You don't trust the doctor's judgement?"

"Of course I do, I just -" It was like static had erupted in Will's head, a dim buzzing was ringing in his ears. "i just want her to wake up. He said himself that comas are unpredictable -"

"So you _do_ believe him?"

"He said coma's are unpredictable." Will hedged, doing his best to avoid looking at the therapist. The sly man was using the exact same stare that Will always used on people he was grilling in the hot seat. That thing where you just stare at the person you are questioning and stubbornly don't reply to them because they're hoping that you are going to give them an out and start on another topic. Habib was absolutely not buying his game.

After a whole minute of drawn out, unbearable silence Will finally raised his head in a mixture of desperation and exasperation, only to find the younger man gazing back at him pointedly, patience oozing from him.

"Okay - yes, I don't believe him - or I can't. I know its irrational and he knows a lot better than I do - or maybe his superiors do, he was a bit of a cocky, jumped up prat, but it sounded like some rehearsed shit that he had been taught in med school, so yes, she'll be fine 'apparently', but technically, according to the laws of physics and Einstein and whatnot, we can't definitely say that she is going to fine until she actually wakes up. So no, I'm not going to accept she's fine until her eyes her open and her mouth tells me that herself."

Once more he seemed to have pulled the rug from under the young Doctor. He sat quietly for a moment and Will was convinced that he was actually sitting collecting himself after his patient's unexpected outburst. Will couldn't help but smirk a little inside at this thought. It wasn't often that he got one over on Jack Habib.

"Well, Einstein's theory is about relativity, so technically you're wrong about that, but I get where you're coming from." Will's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head in response to Habib's small smile.

"Not all of us are just out of high school. It's been a while for me."

"But surely you around when Einstein published that theory? And anyway, I thought there was some saying about 'with age comes wisdom' or something?"

"Are you done taking us off topic?" Inwardly cursing as soon as he had said this, Will lamented the fact that he had not managed to come up with another comeback.

"Absolutely, Will, let's get back on point. Why don't you tell me about the shooting?"

Will stared at him, ready to blast him about how entirely inappropriate and inconsiderate and tactless that question was in the current circumstances, and then his throat closed as he caught the understanding look on Jack's face and he had to take a shaky breath just to stop himself from actually breaking down right then.

"Will," He started softly, "I know you're going to say that is just some psychobabble crap that they use in movies to make the plotline better or something, but actually telling someone about what you went through, actually describing what happened step by step is a massive move towards acceptance in cases like this. It'll be good for you. I swear you'll feel better once you've done it."

That was what Mackenzie had said.

All those years ago when she first suggested that he see someone after she had gently coaxed out the story of Will's childhood she had said that talking about it would make him feel better, even it was only a few people. She had said it was exorcising a demon.

He had struggled to understand how a girl from such a wealthy, well-cared for background could have understood that so well, but she was just Mac. She had spun him some story about her mother being negligent of her, and how telling her friends about it had always made her feel better, but for some reason he had always preferred the explanation that was just what she was like. She was just Mackenzie.

It wasn't easy.

He started with the two of them - not mentioning the hand-holding (he didn't think he could take that line of questioning at this point in time) - meeting Lonny in the Lobby. He described how everything after Jim and Charlie had arrived was a just a blur, how he had been so angry and frustrated at Lonny for not letting him travel in the ambulance with her, the numb journey to the ER, the horrific wait for news.

When he reached the brief time he had spent in her hospital room after the others had left, he found that he had to stop. Had to look away. He caught a brief look at the clock on the wall as he did so and was amazed to find that he had been talking for a good fourteen minutes, nearly a whole quarter of an hour, and realised that he could not actually remember when he had just let go and started waddling through his tale. Habib had been right though. And Mackenzie. She was usually right. Well, unless it was to do with something stupid. He smiled weakly at the thought.

"What's that for?" A quiet voice interrupted his thoughts. His head snapped back to Habib.

He had zoned out. He didn't really want to tell him where he had just gone in his head, but judging by the look on his face, Will did not think he would have to. Habib, nodded, choosing not to push his patient any further on the issue.

"Your boss mentioned that you were treated for shock at the hospital?"

Although relieved that they were onto a different topic - well, kind of - Will's forehead wrinkled in annoyance at Charlie.

"Isn't there some thing about patient confidentiality?"

"Sure, but he's not your doctor, he's your boss. I didn't tell _him_ anything but he is free tell me whatever he wants to, and obviously felt that this was important." Will huffed.

Semantics.

"Haven't we already covered this? It's fairly clear why I was in shock."

"Okay. Why don't you tell me about yesterday then?"

"Yesterday?"

There was now a nip of impatience in Habib's voice, now that he knew Will was being deliberately difficult. It was like climbing those high walls you have to do on obstacle courses. There's a few of them in a row and they require a few gos every time, sapping your energy and making you wearier every time you find yourself at the bottom of another one. "Yes, yesterday Will. Yesterday, when someone who you deeply care about - your work partner, your "good friend and most trusted partner" to put it in your words - who just happens to be your former lover and someone you were head over heels for, is lying in a coma because she happened to be standing in front of you when a gun went off -"

"I never said the guy was shooting at me -" Will replied heatedly.

"I didn't either, but either way it's what you believe, isn't it?" Will swallowed. "It's written all over your face. Guilt. You know that someone sent you a death threat months ago - death by gun, in fact - and right now, you're convinced that you're the one who should have been the one lying in a pool of blood."

He gave Will a hard stare, clearly not taking any prisoners today.

"Am I right?" Will just stared back, eyes blazing, before slumping forwards and putting his head in his hands.

OOOOO

He hadn't told anyone where he was going (not that it wasn't obvious, he supposed); he'd just dashed out after they had finished the pitch meeting, grabbed his jacket and prayed that no one stopped him before he got to the elevators.

As he passed parallel to where they were standing, the two from before - Jones and Michaels - shot him curious looks from where they were leaning against one of the interns' desks. He didn't acknowledge them.

Ducking out through the service entrance, Jim pulled his hood up as soon as he cleared the loading bay and kept his head down so that the admittedly smaller gaggle of press gathered outside the front of AWN would have no chance at recognising him. Then he skipped down into the subway, plugging his headphones in and turning it up to max volume before running just in time to make the closing doors of the train.

After a quick glance around at the other New Yorkers filling the compartment, he leaned his head back against the door and let the music drown out the world as the train tugged at his back as it slowly moved off towards its next destination.

OOOOO

"You blame yourself?" Will couldn't tell if it was he was being asked a question or whether Habib was actually trying to help him out and untangle the knot of emotions that was currently sitting obstinately right the in the middle of his airway, preventing him from replying. And breathing properly. Or at least that was the excuse he had decided to stick to.

Will closed his eyes. _Was_ it his fault? He didn't really want to think about it too much...because if it was - if it was all to do with some stupid website comment scheme (and Habib was right, that absolutely might be the case) - he didn't think he would ever forgive himself. Whatever guilt Mac had felt for cheating on him would be nothing to what he suspected his mind would do to him if he had to go to sleep every night knowing that he was responsible for someone putting a bullet in the chest of the person he loved most.

"I don't know."

He was hardly aware of even saying the words, or even preparing them in his head, but he heard them come out his mouth. The pyschologist's eyes narrowed as he looked at Will curiously, leaning easily against the fireplace now.

"I don't know. I don't know who the shooter was, I don't know what he wanted, I just know that for whatever reason, Mackenzie was shot by some bastard with a gun two feet away from me and I didn't even know about it until about seven seconds after it hit her. I didn't even _see_ it! I just looked around and she was -" His voice gave out again.

"So does it help to think that you might _not_ have been the cause of the shooting?"

"There's nothing right now that would make me feel any better about why it happened. It just did and I can't change it!"

"But you'd feel worse if you found out that you _were_ the cause?" Jack tested patiently.

Damn. He had Will there. That knowledge would rip him apart.

He didn't answer.

"You know, when we first talked about your death threat, I told you it wasn't your fault. Which means that if it's the reason why Mackenzie got shot, it wasn't your fault either." He seemed to hesitate, as if unsure of whether Will could handle him continuing.

"If he was the guy Will, then it wasn't your fault that she happened to be standing in front of you. The shooter either has piss-poor aim or he just freaked out and pulled the trigger too early. Either way, it wouldn't be your fault...or Mackenzie's."

Silence.

Will definitely couldn't handle it.

OOOOO

The hospital was bustling with people. It was around lunch time and staff were talking excitedly (or exhaustedly) about getting their break; families of patients were either leaving or just entering, bringing food and magazines for their loved ones. No one paid any attention to the skinny, unobtrusive young man who was steadily winding his way through the crowds, trying to get too irritated at all the people who were walking too slowly, or at those who kept stopping abruptly to see if this was the right corridor for where they wanted to go.

The lingering small of disinfectant was once again filled and nipped at his nostrils as that light flashed before his eyes once again. The light of a hallway, not unlike this one, but there were small but distinctive differences.

Frowning, he took a quick left and was grateful that this new route seemed quieter. It took him only moments to finally turn the handle and enter the sanctuary of Mackenzie's private room. Closing the door behind him, he had to give himself a second before actually turning to face her.

The room seemed different from this morning when he had popped in here early before heading to the office (slightly annoyed to find a sleeping Will slumped over Mackenzie's arm). The blinds had been properly opened and the sun was lighting the room far more effectively and cheerfully that the awful neon glare that the overhead light was allowing.

Although he knew that there was no way that she could hear him - her waking up in the six hours since he had last been here was too much to hope for - he shed his jacket with as little noise as possible, lifting the chair over to her side rather than dragging it.

Seated so that he had a view of her eyes and the gentle outward puff that her lips made whenever she exhaled, he timidly took her hand, taking a brief second to glance at it before they flickered back up to her face.

"So I've got bad news Mackenzie."

OOOOO

"I don't know what to tell her parents." He confessed after five uncomfortable minutes of silence."

"You haven't spoken to them?" Habib walked back over to his usual seat across from Will and all of a sudden - now that they weren't actually talking about Mackenzie herself - Will's chest felt a little lighter. Though this only added to he guilt he was already feeling.

"I didn't even think about it. It never occurred to me - I was too busy thinking about what had happened and when she would get out of surgery that the thought didn't even cross my mind. I only remembered when Charlie mentioned the next morning that Jim had called them to let them know what had happened."

"And you believe that they should have heard it from you first?"

"I -" Will's brow furrowed as he actually thought about it. "I guess actually Jim was probably a perfectly suitable person to do it. He's known Mackenzie better over the last five years than I have. I don't know if he has met her parents, but they've probably heard his name more often than mine since the last time I spoke to them."

"When was the last time you spoke to them?"

"Two weeks before she left."

He blinked, stunned at himself as he realised that he hadn't even needed to think about that - five years ago and he just blurted it out. And he was damn sure that he was right too. Looking up to meet Habib's eyes, he saw that for the first time that day he was wearing the familiar smirk that made an appearance whenever Will was being stupid or stubborn (what was the difference really) about Mackenzie.

"Riiight." Habib interjected, earning him a displeased scowl from Will. "And you parted on friendly terms?"

"I was getting ready to propose to their daughter, of course it ended on friendly terms."

"They might have disapproved of you." Habib said airily, and Will knew that he was trying to provoke him.

"They didn't."

"They liked you?"

"They lov-" Will's eyes narrowed. How the hell did this guy do that? Had he studied at Johns Hopkins or Merlin's School of Magic? Will just fell for his little schemes every time. He sucked his cheeks in, quickly running through ways of backtracking this.

"They what Will?" He pressed softly.

Nope.

Damn, damn and double damn.

"They loved me." He raised his head slightly as he said it. "They treated me like I was already their son."

There was no mistaking the emotion, the regret and longing in Will's voice this time. It was like Jack had finally kicked down that last wall and left the raw and vulnerable form of Mackenzie's Billy McAvoy standing shyly in the rubble.

"And what did that mean to you? Your father a disappointment to you and your mother dead..." Why was he asking questions to which he already knew the answers?

_Cause talking about it helps..._

Christ, Mackenzie.

"Everything."

Habib didn't immediately press him on that like Will thought he would. Instead he gave him a moment to compose himself before going on, his soft tone continuing.

"So when Mackenzie left, she wasn't the only thing you lost?"

Will shoook his head. He honestly didn't know what he could say to that. There was nothing else _to_ say. Jack Habib had hit the nail right on the head.

When he head found Mackenzie he had not only found the woman of his dreams, his equal, his partner, his best friend, his lover and the rest of his life, he had found a family who had welcomed him with open arms; albeit with drastically different views regarding the phenomenon of globalisation and its impact on China. But he could live with that.

And then she had left. And he hadn't spoken to Michael or Susannah since. Just a long, drawn silence.

"Were you jealous of Jim?"

He snapped back to reality.

"_What_?"

"Well...it wouldn't be such a ridiculous thing. You used to be the man by Mackenzie's side, the one who was watching out for her in their eyes. And this time it wasn't you, it was Jim; although they would have known that you were there."

"They asked about me." Will said abstractly.

"Doesn't answer the question." Habib replied swiftly. Will found his exasperation quickly returning.

"No, I was not jealous of Jim. I was worried about him more than anything else."

"Why?"

OOOOO

"The cops came to talk to me before the pitch meeting."

Silence. Oh the damned tyranny of silence just pressing in on him. Suffocating him. It ruled over the air in this room, controlled the atmosphere emotionally.

"They've questioned the shooter."

* * *

**_To be continued in part II and beyond..._**


	7. Life Raft Pt II

**Chapter 5: Life Raft Pt. II**

**Wow everyone! What an amazing lovely response to the first part of this chapter! Much appreciated! I think this is going to be the longest story I've ever posted...yet ;)**

**I'm aware that there seems to be a few technical problems going around right now in terms of email delivery and updates, so apologies on that front but sadly there's not really much we can do until it's fixed. **

_**Previously...**_

_**Will wakes up still by Mackenzie's side.**__**We meet Julie, Mac's lovely, but straight-talking nurse. Lonny takes Will to an emergency appointment with Habib set up by Charlie and he has to discuss his feelings about the last two days. While all this is going on, Jim is visiting Mackenzie as he starts to crumble.**_

* * *

"Because I am. He's a great guy, he's one of my team, he was clearly upset and he's -"

"Mac's right hand man?"

"And he has PTSD." Will added quietly, a strange tone given the slight feeling of deja vu that was creeping up his spine. Somehow he was saying it just as calmly as Charlie had the day before. Only then Will had reacted like Charlie had dropped a small atom bomb on him.

"I'm sorry?" Habib asked, clearly surprised himself, but not entirely sure what Will was talking about. Will had never really told him about Jim before.

OOOOO

Tears had started running down his face. He wasn't even entirely sure why, but he grasped Mac's hand tighter. If she had been awake she probably would have tutted at him for trying to crush her hand.

"God, I'm sorry for being such a mess. I just wish you were here, 'cause you understand. Or you would...if you were here. But when you wake up Will's going to need you and you're going to be busy, and I know he's more important, I just - God." He gently licked the tears that were clinging to the top of his upper lip and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I just keep seeing it Mac. All of them. Two days ago, and three years ago and five years ago, and all those times in between. They just keep flashing in front of my eyes and I can't tell anyone 'cause the others already think I've gone funny since you went down."

He fiddled with the manicured nail on her left index finger, noticing with some affection the tell tale signs of biting at the gradually evening out edge along the top from where she worried it between her teeth during broadcasts. Another rip of lightening across his brain.

He screwed his eyes tight shut and let his forehead fall lightly against his two hands that were clasping hers, his body canting towards the hospital bed, as if seeking protection.

"I just need you to wake up Mac. We all do. I just need you to be okay. I need to know that our luck has not run out."

OOOOO

"He has PTSD. So does Mackenzie. According to Charlie." The more he spoke about it the more hollow his voice became. It was like he was on autopilot.

"From the Middle East?" Habib asked. Will nodded, still trying to iron out the details himself, the attorney part of his mind constructing the scene of what must have happened in his mind, trying to piece together the case.

"He told me last night. I knew they were both there when Mackenzie was stabbed, but Charlie told me that before that Jim had been shot. I didn't know..."

"You never told me Mackenzie had been stabbed." Habib pressed gently, lowering his voice to an even more, knowing this was very shaky, fragile territory for Will.

"Didn't I?" Will had zoned out: he was giving zombie answers, the day Charlie had pushed a large measure of bourbon into his hand and told him to take a seat before he destabilised Will's sanity without warning was echoing dangerously between his ears.

"No, you didn't Will. Actually, you've never really mentioned Mackenzie's time away."

"I don't know much about it."

"You've never asked her?"

"i've never been able to." At least he was being honest. May as well keep going... "I was the reason she ran off to the Middle East...never felt it was my place to ask about it."

"More blame, Will?" Habib asked, in a tired voice that bordered on pity. His eyes were screaming it. Wasn't that against some secret, unspoken psychologist's rule? Never let your feelings show?

* * *

_June 2009..._

_Charlie Skinner jumped as he heard the light knock on the glass door to office. He could see the reflection of his visitor in the window across from him and his heart sank. Even though he had invited the guest up here himself. Will was looking fairly normal as he stood behind the door. So he didn't know then. _

_Charlie briefly closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind to accommodate what he was about to do before standing up straight and as tall as he could make himself and beckoning over his shoulder for Will to come in._

_"Drink?" He asked shortly, beads of sweat plastering parts of his shirt to cling to his back under his tweed jacket._

_"Isn't it a little early? Even for you?" WIll smiled easily, flopping down into his preferred chair on the other side of Charlie's desk. He had always envied this desk. It was beautiful and sleek: modern in the gorgeous red wood of Charlie's office. He liked Charlie's office. It didn't feel like the cold intimidating interrogation room that his previous bosses' offices had been._

_"So we're getting some great footage of the riots in Iran. Gonna be a great issue. That new intern - what's his name? Christopher, Christian, Christophe - you know, the German guy? He says that he has a friend based at the embassy there who can send us footage and some freelance interviews on the fly, so -"_

_"Here you go." Charlie said, really hoping that Will wasn't about to go off into the one of the occasional rants that he only seemed to get into when he and Charlie were alone. It was a side to Will that no one else got to see. These days, anyway. Not like it had been before. So much potential..._

_"Thanks. So, CNN are reporting -"_

_"Will, I need you to stop for a minute." Charlie sat heavily in his chair, relishing in the firm but soft cushioning that was providing enough support to his ageing spine that he could say this sitting up straight, but that didn't make him feel he was backed up against a wall. _

_A shadow flickered across the younger man's eyes as he caught Charlie's wary expression and the unmistakable sadness behind his eyes._

_"What's up Charlie?" He asked, totally nonplussed about what could have his mentor so rattled._

_Surveying him with no small degree of caution, Charlie pondered (for what must have been the hundredth time since he had gotten the phone call) how exactly he should break this news. It had been seven long, torturous hours ago. He still hadn't managed to come up with an easy way to put this. _

_Deciding to just bite the bullet, he took a sizeable gulp of Bourbon before starting to speak again._

_"I got off the phone with Cal Jackson over at CNN about an hour ago." Will just looked even more confused._

_He had only met Cal at a couple of dinners and charity events, oh and maybe at an awards show too, and twice at the correspondents dinner, but it had just been industry chat and gossip. He had no idea what this man could possibly have said that would a) make Charlie this anxious and b) have anything to do with him._

_"It was the second time he called me today - the first time was just before five this morning."_

_What the hell?_

_"Protests in Iran probably won't be the only ones you hear about today, although they'll be the only ones you'll cover." Now he was just avoiding saying whatever it was, and Will knew that Charlie never did that. He was more of a 'screw the pretence and spit it out' kind of guy._

_"Charlie, I don't understand. What're you -"_

_"There was a protest in Islamabad early yesterday evening - or just before five am our time. It got pretty rowdy and there were a few injuries amongst the protestors."_

_"What does any of this have to do with -"_

_"Mackenzie was there."_

_Charlie watched as the colour physically drained from Will's face until his skin looked sickly against his golden hair and deep blue jumper. His knuckles curled tighter around his glass of Scotch and his shoulders visibly tensed. There was an anguished fear reflected in his eyes and he knew he needed to tell the rest of the story quickly before Will had a panic attack or something. He raised his hand in as reassuring a gesture as he could manage at that moment and ploughed on._

_"Someone apparently didn't like that she was a white, female, western journalist covering their protest and they stabbed her."_

_Will recoiled, wetness glistening in the corners of his eyes as the scene played out in his mind's eye._

_"Charlie -" He managed to crack out, "She's not -" He looked uncertainly at the older man, unable to comprehend what he had meant to the second part of that sentence, let alone able to speak it._

_"Please God tell me she's not -"_

_Charlie's heart broke. Two years and Will had barely mentioned Mackenzie's name. Now one small sentence from him and he was on the verge of a breakdown._

_"They got her to a hospital and she was immediately taken into surgery. The call from Cal an hour ago was to say that she made it and they were keeping her in for a few days until they can transfer her to the military hospital near Landsthul. Apparently her senior producer says they're talking about sending her to London for a few weeks after that while she recovers."_

_Will had curled in on himself as soon as Charlie had said Mac would be okay. His forehead was pressed tight against the glass tumbler and Charlie wasn't sure that he had even heard anything after that._

_"I uh - I didn't know whether you would have already known...her producer sent you an email apparently."_

_Will's eyes widened and and looked around as though he didn't know where Charlie was standing when he had said it. "I - I don't even - I don't think I've met -"_

_"No, you haven't. But he got hold of your email address and thought you should know. I'm telling you so that when you do check your emails you won't be, you know..." Charlie looked at him sadly. "I got one from him just after Cal had called me. He seems like a nice guy. A scared guy, right now. He sounded a bit shaky."_

_"Why are you telling me this?" Will asked hollowly. _

_"Honestly I am not sure." Charlie stated bluntly, his voice seemingly the low baseline that was keeping Will tuned into reality. "I just know I'm pretty torn up right now - though I doubt as much as the young guy who is sitting in a hospital right now starting to breathe normally after his boss has just survived a close shave with the Grim Reaper." _

_"Charlie -"_

_"What Will? You haven't mentioned her in two years and you're sitting here looking like the bottom just fell out of your life. I mean seriously Will - you let her run off to the Middle East two years ago and you've never even told me why, so I apologize if my head isn't quite screwed on right now. There's a lot of stuff floating around up there."_

_"AND YOU THINK I'M ANY DIFFERENT?"_

_"NO! God, Will, no, I can tell that you care. Obviously you do. I mean, I'm not going to pretend that I completely understand what's going on with you about Mackenzie, but yes, I can tell. Jeez Will, she's just - whatever she is to you she's like a daughter to me. I was tempted to introduce her to Jack or Harry after the two of you ended, I would have happily had her as family."_

_"So would I." Will muttered, but Charlie heard him. _

_"So why didn't you?" Charlie asked tiredly, finally looking at him again after his mini-rant. The younger man just looked back at him as though he had just been asked to take over from Atlas and have a shot at carrying that weight on his shoulders for a while. _

_"It's in the past Charlie - can we not just -"_

_"I'm sorry Will, whatever happened was obviously painful - for both of you - but right now I'm angry, and I'm upset, and I apologise for yelling at you, but at this moment in time I'm just particularly puzzled over what exactly could have been _so_ bad that it made her run all the way to a war zone? I mean, you know, I feel for you but you're not the one lying in a foreign hospital right now after major surgery. And right now I'm not feeling so lenient towards letting you off with a vague answer." _

_A tear finally escaped Will's eye and Charlie felt his heart sink. _

_"I'm guessing you don't keep in touch with her?" Will snorted. _

_"Do you?" He asked skeptically. _

_"Yes." Will stared at him, amazed. Charlie wanted to hit him and knock some sense into that brilliant skull of his. Clearly he still had strong feelings for this woman, so why the hell was she half way around the world getting her guts ripped out?_

_Will was now looking confused and rather vulnerable. Scared, almost. _

_"Wh -"_

_"She hasn't told me anything about what happened." Charlie sighed wearily. Will looked relieved, although the lingering hurt was still there. "Not that I haven't asked...a few times. She either refuses or ignores me. But she asks about you. Every time. Every single time. And she mentioned that she still emails you."_

_The vulnerability returned to Will's face. _

_"You've never replied? Not even to tell her to stop?"_

_"I - I just can't Charlie, I can't talk to her." _

_"But you don't tell her to stop." He pointed out quietly. Will's eyes closed. "Because you don't want to encourage her or because you like that she's being persistent?"_

_He closely scrutinized Will's face for any indication as to which one was true, but Will's eyes were closed and he looked almost as though he was asleep, the drink still clutched loosely in his hand. _

_Frustration. That was the word that best described Charlie Skinner at that moment in time._

_"She's okay?" He murmured eventually. Charlie sighed, conceding that he was not going to get anything else out of Will right now. He looked like he had aged about a decade in the last half hour. _

_"Yes. By all reports it seems like she's going to be fine. Cal and Jim have promised to keep me updated."_

_"Jim?" He asked distractedly._

_"Her senior producer." Charlie supplied, straightening up and starting to sound a little more business like and pouring himself another measure of bourbon. "Now, drink your Bourbon and go home, I'll see you tomorrow."_

_That snapped Will out of his daze. "What about the show tonight?"_

_"I'm going to have Don put Elliot on." Charlie said firmly, and he quickly cut in again as he caught Will's annoyed expression. "I'm not going to believe you if you try and tell me that you'll be able to talk about protests in Iran tonight for thirty minutes and not have vivid flashes of Mackenzie whilst you're doing it, so go home, take the day, get your head straight and come in and do tomorrow's show as well as you always do, okay? I'm not going to put you on tonight at the risk of you losing it half-way through."_

_Will looked for a moment as though he was going to challenge him, but after a moment of thinking he just looked resigned, accepting his orders. _

_"What are you going to tell Don?"_

_"I'll just tell him you needed a personal day. In case you didn't know, you are actually entitled to them."_

_"He'll ask questions." Will replied in a resigned voice. _

_"He's not an idiot Will, he's a journalist. He reads the news so he's going to put two and two together, but this way he'll know you don't want to talk about it and he'll keep quiet. Now go on, get out of here."_

_Holding his gaze for only a second or two longer, Will nodded and downed his drink, giving a last quick glance as he placed the tumbler back on Charlie's desk. _

_He stopped again just as he was half-way out the door, however._

_"Thank you, Charlie."_

OOOOO

"Will?"

His head snapped up once more as he realized that Habib had been calling his name for the last minute or so.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was asking about how you felt about Mackenzie running off to the Middle East. You think that was your fault?"

"I - no I don't think it was my fault. She's Mackenzie - she's tenacious and independent and so damn head strong - I don't think that if she really wanted to do it anyone would have been able to stop her."

"But did she really want to do it?"

"Can we just stop, please? I seriously - I'm - I can't do this anymore. Today. I just -"

"I know this is taking a lot out of you." Habib said softly.

"Well thank you for being so understanding." Will quipped sarcastically.

"Will, judging on what I've seen so far today on top of what I've seen for the past couple of months whenever you've come for a session, I think I can say that it's clear you have unresolved issues here, and two days ago they exploded for you because time ran out - or it _seemed_ like it was running out.

"You've been holding all these issues inside and burying your head in the sand, trying to push it out to arms length and put off dealing with it for as long as possible. Because there was never any time pressure to deal with them. You thought you'd have forever. And then you thought Mackenzie was going to die and all of that uncoiled. You thought you were out of time, but now you're not and you're struggling to get all of that under control again.

"I'm just saying that maybe you don't have to. Maybe this is a good opportunity to deal with that and make your life easier again once she wakes up. If you want my professional opinion then I'll tell you that psychologically it is _not_ healthy."

Will pressed his face into his hands.

This was the downside to having a therapist. He actually (somehow) understood the weird spaghetti jumble of emotions that was Will's mind and emotions.

"Just listen to me for a second and tell me how crazy this sounds to you: A guy who gets cheated on by the love of his life feels personally responsible for said love then running away to a war zone where a two people he has never met injure the Love and her senior producer. Man then also feels responsible for these two people consequently being diagnosed with PTSD as a result of three years where he did not speak to, or interact with either of them in any way.

You're a lawyer Will. How would that go down in front a judge as a line of questioning against a suspect? That's a hell of a lot of blame for a man who is the innocent party here."

A small noise of frustration hissed out of Will's mouth as he still refused to look at Habib. He decided to just ignore the blatant logic in that last part.

"You want me to just tell her how I feel? Just because she's lying in a hospital bed."

"How _do_ you feel?"

And there it was.

The simple, obvious, excruciating question that had been staring him blankly in the face for the last three years - hell, the last _six_ years! The one question that was on the one hand the most painful, burning, prickly part of him that he had carried around every day since the awful night that Mackenzie had sat him down and explained that she had been sleeping with her ex-boyfriend for six months. Yet on the other hand, it had also been burning a different kind of fire in him since she had walked back into his life nearly three years ago and he couldn't walk away from that.

He may not be able to walk towards it right now, but he certainly couldn't turn away. Whether he liked it or not he had come to accept that this feeling was not going to go anywhere. It was like passing the point of no return. He had come to accept that somehow, someday he would face up to this issue and would hopefully enjoy the outcome. He just wasn't ready to do it yet.

Or he had not been. Now he did simply did not know.

He felt so torn, cheated almost, by fate that he felt he was being forced into making a decision. Though at the same time, there was a small pleading voice in the back of his head which begged him to just let go. It had been quietly knocking on the inside walls of his mind for months and months and in the last two days it seemed that it had finally gotten in.

And God was he tempted. It was not like he hadn't always wanted it, it was just that there was something especially persuasive about a peaceful, innocent Mackenzie sleeping alone in a hospital room (possibly because of him). He just wanted to hold her and protect her and take care of her and he wanted her to let him. There was just one blockade standing in the way of all that. Forgiveness. His problem with forgiving her.

"Okay Will, we're going to leave it there for today, but I want you to come back tomorrow. You're going to be under a lot of stress over the next couple of days and I think you need to talk about it or you're going to clam up. Like you're starting to do right now."

Will nodded numbly.

"Okay?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to put you down for an hour's session ten okay. You won't miss anything for the show then, right?"

"That's fine. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Take easy today Will, okay."

Will stood up shakily and tried to pull himself together before he had to go outside and face Lonny. He felt so open and readable to everyone right now that it was actually draining him and was, he felt, only adding to his tiredness.

He felt a light hand on his shoulder as Jack herded him towards the door.

Lonny stood up as the door opened and the look on his face did nothing to improve Will's mood.

"What is it now?"

"Charlie called about fifteen minutes ago. The cops want to speak to you when we get to the studio."

Great. He had just had to go through an interrogation about the shooting and his relationship with Mackenzie, and now he was about to have to do it all over again.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay Will?" Habib said from behind him. "Whatever the cops want we can talk about it then if you like. You managed to talk about it earlier and I believe you'll be fine repeating it to them now."

He really wished he had never woken up this morning. Why couldn't he have just spent his day sleeping quietly next to Mackenzie and pretending the rest of the world did not exist?

* * *

Charlie was waiting for them outside the elevators.

"How are you?"

"Oh yeah, just great. I've had a wonderful morning of self-examination and scrutiny, so I'm feeling dead chipper right now. '_Spiffing_' as I believe they say in British satire."

"Did it help?" Charlie asked flatly.

"It was great until I got told I could leave for the day only to then be told I was just going to be taken to another place where the process would be repeated, only by people who are less friendly."

"We're lucky that they didn't come yesterday."

"Why didn't they?"

"They were interrogating the shooter." Charlie said quietly. Will spun around.

"They know who he is?" Will's eyes had gone wide and he pulled Charlie over to the side of the corridor, looking at him desperate for an answer.

"Yes they do." Charlie said in a low voice. "But I'll talk about it when you go put your stuff in your office."

This did not sound promising.

"Where are they?"

"They wanted to use the conference room but Jim thought it would freak everyone out so he put them in one of the empty offices upstairs."

"Where is Jim?"

"He took off for lunch about half an hour ago. He was the last one they questioned and he looked like he needed a break. Maggie's been keeping an eye on him since they came in this morning. She herded him in with coffee and some donuts or something. Think she's worried he's going to flatline if Mackenzie doesn't get a move on." Charlie looked slyly at him as they entered Will's office. "I still think you should talk to him."

"Im getting there." Will said shortly, before sliding his jacket off his shoulders and turning back to face his boss. "Now, what's going on with the shooter?"

Charlie's face slipped and a sudden look of guilt crossed his features. "You're not going to like it."

"Really? I'm not going to like the guy responsible for shooting Mackenzie? Wow, what an insight."

"It's the troll." No.

Will slumped onto the corner of his desk and put his hands in his face.

"They talked to Neal and Jim and Maggie and Don this morning. They asked them about the shooting first but they were also the ones who were originally there when that post was first made after the Mosque interview. They're going to put him away for a long time Will." Charlie said firmly, a steeled look in his eye.

"He was aiming for me?" Will asked, devastated.

"It wasn't your fault Will. This is all on him. There is absolutely nothing that you could have done. He's the only one responsible."

Will chuckled shallowly. "She yelled at me the day I asked Neal to change the website. She said we needed to talk about it."

"She had no problem with you making a new debate format. She had a problem with you being overworked and getting snappy with the audience and your staff. You know Mackenzie, she's all for making debates clearer and fairer."

This didn't seem to help. Will just sighed and looked like he was quite happy to stay right where he was.

"Come on, let's get this over with. They're going to ask you about the shooting, and then they're going to ask you about the death threats, and that's all. You can handle that. You can handle that for Mackenzie, and for your staff, and for you because it will be good for all of you. It will be incredibly helpful for Mackenzie when she wakes up to know that the guy who did this to her - to both of you and to all of us - is behind bars."

He watched the younger man for a few minutes before he silently got up and left the room.

Charlie'e eyes followed him as he ascended the staircase to the upper floors, only releasing the breath he had been holding once he saw the appropriate office door open and close again. Then he took up Will's previous position of sitting on the edge of the desk, thinking.

He had watched Will pretend for three years that he had moved on with his life after two years of perfect happiness with a woman he loved.

One morning he had come in to work to find a puffy-eyed Mackenzie sitting quietly in his office, resignation letter in hand. She had refused to give him a reason, just quietly said that she couldn't stay.

After she had left he had regularly kept in touch with her, always thrilled to hear from her, though saddened to see that her words seemed to have less of a spark in them, even if she had lost none of her journalistic passion. He had never admitted it to Will because the guy had seemed so cut up about whatever it was that had happened, but he missed Mackenzie too. No one who had worked for him since had come close to her. Although he had to hand it to this new team she and Will had grown: they really were a credit to them.

Passionate, strong, a real tough nut if ever he had met one, but also full of heart, crazy, funny, a little loose in the head but in the best way possible, and one of the most loyal and reliable friends he had. And then she had flown to the war-torn, extremely unsafe other side of the world. And he had worried. Constantly.

She was quite honest in her emails with him; had always seemed to find solace in someone who had experienced similar things to what she was going through. She didn't want to tell her dad that she had been driving past a Humvee which had exploded fifteen seconds later, but she could tell Charlie.

He had never known until she mistakenly sent that email what had really happened between them.

It was no secret to anyone around them that Mac and Will were like his grown-up, if unruly children, but like any parent there are times when as much as you love them and want to protect them, they make mistakes and they disappoint you. Finding out what Mackenzie had done had been that moment for him. It had torn him.

He had been angry at her for doing that to both of them - because what Will clearly had not realised was that he did not need to punish Mackenzie - she was doing that herself in one of the harshest ways imaginable. But he still loved both of them, and moreover he could see that they still loved each other.

Watching Mackenzie trip over herself trying to make it up to Will ever since she had returned had been almost as hard as reading those crazy emails she used to send. But not quite.

He really hoped that Will would come out of that meeting with his eyes opened. As undeniable as it was that the events of the last few days had been horrific and traumatising for everyone, Charlie had told Will that first night in the hospital room that misery and trauma might not be the strongest emotional memories that he took away from this tragedy. He still hoped that he would turn out to be correct.

* * *

_**Wow. Finishing this Two-parter feels like finishing a very long race. Very intimidated because the next chapter is equally as long, if not more. And it's barely started so I'm afraid I must ask once more for patience. No coursework now though, so hopefully things should go faster. **_

_**Next up we have more from Charlie/Will, Will/Jim and an appearance from the Lansings. **_

_**Again, thank you all, you amazing bunch! I'm looking forward to hearing what you think of this :) Enjoy the rest of the weekend! **_

_**x**_


	8. Red Sky In the Morning

**Chapter 8: Red Sky in the Morning**

_**Because I love Jane and Leona (who IS a goodie!).**_

* * *

The sun was blazing through the windows as Mackenzie whimpered and wriggled around under tangled sheets. She looked annoyingly adorable for someone in her situation.

He stood there, chamomile tea in one hand, plate of toast in the other, and rested against the doorframe, watching her face contort in a ridiculously cute way for someone who had been bedridden for nearly seventy-six hours.

She suddenly twisted onto her back, arching off the bed as she raised a hand (which seemed as though it had turned to lead) to her forehead and let out a low groan.

"Watching me is creepy you know." She croaked out, eyes still hidden under the hand that was covering her face. Damn. He'd been caught.

"Well," he said coyly, "What can I say? Someone so ill should not be so sexy."

She scoffed. "Sexy? You must be catching my flu Billy, you're having delusions in broad daylight."

Just the low tone of her voice was so incredibly attractive to his ears that he once more found himself utterly overwhelmed by how much he loved this woman. He placed the food onto the nightstand and sunk down next to her on the mattress, leaning over her and placing a hand to her clammy head. She moaned again as his cooler skin met hers.

"Oh Mac." He said sympathetically. She hummed appreciatively, her hand feebly curling round his wrist. He gently pulled her hand off her face, taking in her flushed skin and sweaty heat. Her eyes flitted open, flickering across his face, distracted, confused, like the light was too intense. Yeah, she was definitely sick.

She moved her hand up to his face, lightly tracing a finger down his jaw as he calmly watched her. He leant forward and placed a light kiss to her sweaty forehead. Her hand tried to push him away.

"Nooooo." she whined. "You are way too close. I'm contagious, get away."

"Do you really think you're in a position to take me right now, Ms. McHale?" He grinned.

"I could take you any day I want McAvoy." She slurred, her eyes closing again her feet twisting at the bottom, trying to escape the confines of the sheets.

"Yeah?" He ran a sole finger from her clavicle down to her belly, being careful not to trigger her upset stomach. "Prove it." he whispered tauntingly, his breath ghosting across her ear causing her to shiver.

"I can take you." She mumbled. Her adorably scrunched up face mellowed out into a more peaceful, serene expression, despite the redness that lingered as he gently rubbed her belly. She reminded him of a cat, flaked out on her back.

"Sure you can." He whispered, lips brushing along her hairline and down the side of her face. He could feel the hand scrunching in his t-shirt but she didn't push him away, she just twisted her fingers along the rim of the neckline.

He skated over her lips, smiling at the the unhappy gasp that he drew from her mouth before moving down to her neck, lingering there and gently massaging her hip with his free hand.

"Goddd, Will." She whimpered after he'd not moved from her pulse point for more than a minute. "Willl!"

He grinned against her neck before moving back up until his face was level with hers. Her eyes had snapped open again and she was looking at him in a decidedly unamused fashion.

"Better?" He asked innocently. She tugged a little harder on his collar.

"Mean, McAvoy. So mean."

"I was just trying to help you relax." Her eyes narrowed.

"Do feel better?" He asked, genuinely, cupping her cheek in his hand, stroking a finger across her bone. She glared at him for a few more seconds.

"Yes." She said grudgingly, turning to look out the window, making him chuckle. He gently turned her head back towards him, wasting no time in rewarding her by pressing his lips gently against hers, capturing her upper lip in his. He instantly felt her relax. He could feel her hand travel from his collar to tangle lightly in his hair, one random finger just drawing circles on his crown.

She let out another whine as he detached himself, but this time when she opened her eyes she was smiling softly.

"I brought chamomile tea." He said softly. "And toast."

Her smile widened, her finger trailing back down his face again, "What did I do to deserve you, huh?"

"Oh I'm sure you'll earn it someday" He teased. She rolled her eyes and pathetically slapped his chest, before tugging him more forcefully down for another kiss.

He really couldn't care less whether she was sick or not. She was here and she was with him and he considered himself unbelievably lucky to have a such a woman at his side. Or under him, he supposed, smiling into the kiss.

He opened his eyes, wanting to see her face again. And he jolted back.

"Mac?!" He asked, panicked. How had this happened? Only a second ago she had been - what the HELL?

Her face was bruised, cut and there was a nasty cut running deep under her eye and another contusion brilliantly red against the pale skin of her forearm. He jolted back to her face and noted the way her eyes were wide open and oh so terrified, frantically scanning from left to right, and she was gasping, hyperventilating.

He was scared to touch her.

"Mackenzie?" He had to grab her, one hand on her shoulder and one hand on her waist, trying to get her to focus on him, trying to understand what was actually happening.

"Mac?" His voice cracked. Her eyes rolled before they clenched in pain and she arched under his hands.

"Wi - W - Wi - Wi -"

He looked at her bewildered, suddenly aware of a warm wetness under his hands. He looked down and his heart stopped. There was a large circle of blood spreading out across the white sheets from a deep, maroon hole in her abdomen, staining his fingertips and palms. How can that have happened? She was fine! She had been fine! They had been touching and kissing and - how could this -

"Will?"

He spun around, finding Charlie standing in the doorway looking concerned. Will gulped, raising his hands in despair.

"Charlie! God Charlie - I swear to God - I have no idea what happened - she just - you have to help - "

He looked back from the weirdly unfazed Charlie to Mackenzie. Except she had changed again. He was so confused. This couldn't be real. Surely, this couldn't be real?

"Will?" Charlie called again...except he sounded more distant this time. Like he was calling from further away.

"Mac?" He called again, but now her eyes were shut. He was still holding her but she wasn't responding.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the scenes change around him and suddenly he's in the plaza outside of ACN. There's a crowd and next to him and there's people screaming and Lonny's on the ground a few feet away from him and he's holding the dead weight of Mackenzie against his chest. Oh God.

"WILL!"

He snapped awake.

Dazedly he blinked, his heart still racing from the scenes that had played out in front of him just moments before. Yet he was sitting in his office, and though the warm sunlight was still in the window, it was a warmer, brighter sun than had been in his...his what? His dream? It must have been. Except it _was_ real! That memory from the bedroom was _real_.

Now it was apparently a nightmare.

He twisted slowly in his seat, his mouth still half-open, his eyes eventually focussing on Charlie's concerned looking figure.

"You okay, there?"

"I - yeah." He shook himself and sat back further into his chair, attempting to reassert himself. He was in his office. He was safe. He had been here for a few hours now, and he had seen Mac just that morning.

"Will?" He repeated in a softer voice. He hated the look Charlie was giving him - sympathy was now turning into pity and he just hated it. He hated being reminded every time he saw someone looking at him that he had fucked up. That he could have been in a far less embittered position right now if he had just gotten over his pride and confessed his prevailing feelings for Mackenzie beforehand.

He found the images flashing before his eyes once more. He had readily avoided Charlie since yesterday. And there was a reason for that. And his daydream had just brought that all back.

"The day Mackenzie got stabbed...what were you going to do if she hadn't made it?"

"What?"

"You only told me after the second phone call from Jackson. You were waiting to know whether she was going to make it before you told me. It was noon. You could have called me in earlier. But you waited...?"

"I'm - ?"

"The day Mac got stabbed?" He asked a little more impatiently, dismissing Charlie's confused expression.

"Yes..." Charlie said slowly, a resigned look hijacking his eyes signalling to Will that he knew where this was going. Will's look was hard and desperate.

"If she had died, when would you have told me?"

Charlie sighed and in an unusual move for him, ran his fingers through his hair. "I would have told you Will. Of course I would have told you - you think that I would keep something like that - something like that about _Mackenzie_ from you?"

"I don't know, you obviously didn't feel the need to tell me straight away!"

He was getting erratic and he knew it, but this had been eating away at him since his meeting with Habib that morning.

"Will, how much sleep did you get last night?" It was sharp, it was curt, it was to the point and it hit the nail on the head and they both knew it.

"Not much." He muttered. Charlie huffed at him. Will spun back around. "Don't have a go at me Charlie, I don't understand how you are sleeping! Have you seen her today? I have! She's the same! She's the goddam same as she was the day before! And the night before that! When's it going to change Charlie, when's she going to wake up!? They said she was going to wake UP!"

He hadn't even realised that he had started shouting. He expected Charlie to reprimand him - maybe even send him home. Instead, Charlie levelled him with a fixed stare and waited for his breathing to even out.

"Are you going to calm down before the meeting with Leona?"

Shit. He had totally forgotten about that. Exactly what he needed! Leona Lansing and her fucking yapping puppy of a son flapping along at her heels.

Charlie cleared his throat, looking expectantly at him, tapping his fingers on his blazer's button.

"What time is this meeting?" Will asked shortly.

"In an hour." Charlie replied airily. "Can you be civil?"

"_I_ can be civil." Will insisted, lighting up a cigarette with fidgety hands. "Whether her muppet can be civil? The jury's still out on that."

"Her muppet?" Charlie's lips twitched.

"Yes!" He snapped, twisting to look back out of the window again.

"You went to your guy this morning?" He asked tentatively.

Will blew a long puff of smoke out of his lungs, not answering straight away.

"It didn't go well?"

Will hissed. He could hear Charlie creeping up behind him but he made no attempt to turn around.

It was fair to say that his meeting with Habib this morning, after his pilgrimage to Mackenzie, had been equivalent to the success of the Hindenburg; and equally explosive. He was fraying at the edges and he felt that there was nothing he could do to stop it. Only Mac could do that. He needed her. Badly.

He felt rather than saw Charlie stand at his side, shoulder-to-shoulder with him, respectfully not staring at him but following his gaze to the horizon, just visible through the steel-glass jungle of Manhattan. "I'm your boss, Will, it's my job to ask...can you do this?"

He wasn't sure if he wanted to punch or hug him for asking such a question.

Truthfully, he didn't know whether he wanted to keep doing the show or walk away until the situation was...resolved. All he knew was that he wanted Mackenzie. As sappy, lovestruck, sickeningly romanticised as that was, it was the only solid fact he knew about himself right now. This morning had shown him that. He hadn't recognised the man who had been in Habib's office today. And he hated himself for that a little bit. He threw a curious glance at his mentor.

"You know she's going to ask Will. I'll back you whatever you decide, but I want you to be sure either way." He now turned his head to meet Will's eyes. "No one here is going to think any less of you if you choose to wait in the dugout for a while. We're a team here."

God he sounded like Mac. Oh Charlie!

Since when did he channel Mac's spirit? Oh right - yeah, that was it: the two of them had been in on this since the beginning. This had all been Charlie's Grand Design. So maybe it was the other way around - maybe Mac was channelling Charlie? No. Mac was Mac, he knew that. Oh, why is he even asking himself these stupid questions? It's little thoughts like these that have had him in a tailspin since he woke that morning...slowly tying himself into tight little knots of anger and frustration, getting lost inside the labyrinth of his own mind.

Taking a deep breath in through his nose, he inhaled the soothing scent of the cigarette (which ironically he knew Mac would kill him for) and allowed it to flow through him before he opened his eyes once more, mind set, verdict decided. He knew there was only one option.

"I'm not leaving, Charlie."

That was it. Four simple words. Will had already made up his mind yesterday that this was the only acceptable course as long as Mac was out of the game. That had been at least one thing that Habib had led him to realise. That was something, he supposed.

He felt a hand clap on his shoulder. "Good man." Charlie answered gruffly, a distinct note of pride lingering in the air after his words had receded.

"I don't think I'm the only person who needs to be answering that question though." Charlie looked at him quizzically. "Jim?" He offered.

Charlie almost scoffed. "If you're staying, he's definitely staying."

"But he should be given the option." He could see that Charlie's cogs were turning, probably coming up with the same things he was: that chances were, Jim saw him as the enemy right now, and thus would absolutely under no circumstances want to look weak. Something he and Jim actually had in common, then...though not exactly a firm foundation stone for a relationship.

'Fine. But you talk to him."

OOOOO

He wasn't sure what happened in the hour between his conversation with Charlie and the meeting with Leona. Maggie had popped her head in the door a couple of times, but he couldn't recall clearly what she had been wanting. Sloan had said something to him. He was sure he was supposed to have been supervising something, or, you know, at least doing some work. But he didn't. He couldn't. His mind was all at once a complete jumble of mixed up thoughts, yet completely focussed on one woman. Disorientating didn't cover it.

Nevertheless, he found himself sitting in the restaurant at the top of AWM offices an hour later, fidgeting with his fingers whilst Charlie stared wistfully out of the window, watching the tiny cars hurtling along Sixth Avenue below.

A click-click of heels roused him from his stupor as Leona Lansing brought the number of people in the room to three. Charlie, ever the gentleman got promptly to his feet, whilst Will attempted to find the impetus to do the same. But a hand on his shoulder forced him the small distance back onto his seat. Raising his eyes he found Leona looking down at him sympathetically before she clapped him twice on the back and leaned over him to greet Charlie.

Well...that was unexpected.

"Reece isn't here?" Will asked bluntly.

He didn't mean it to come out so rude, though he was relieved to find that it sounded far less accusatory out loud than it had in his head. Sitting down smartly, Leona appraised him with what Will could only judge to have been a smirk before nodding her head awkwardly.

"I didn't think his particular, shall we say, personality, would add to the diplomatic atmosphere I wanted for today." She replied dryly. Will scoffed, inwardly touched, whilst Charlie chuckled into his Bourbon.

"And why did you want a diplomatic atmosphere?" Will pressed, entirely sure that her answer would be one he would not like.

"We need to start to working on a response to the public." Leona told him firmly, seeming to anticipate Will's wince.

He had been trying to avoid the press for two days now (ironically hiding out in a Newsroom) and he felt no urge to rectify that. On the other hand, had it been him covering this story, he knew he would have pressed his team to do something earlier. Only then did it occur to him just how much flack Leona must have been taking to give him -(_them_) space.

Two days. That was a long time in the age of tewnty-four hour news.

"I can understand this is a delicate issue for you Will - for both of you and your team - but we're starting to get hounded and the longer we delay it the harder it will be to control it; I know I don't need to tell you that. Everyone understood your reluctance these past couple of days; everyone knows your history with Mackenzie, but you can't hide forever and we have to face that we have a very serious situation wherein someone has tried to kill one of our journalists for exerting their constitutionally protected right to free speech, to say nothing of freedom of the press. This was an attack on American liberties, and it _is_ a story."

"They weren't so keen on defending our freedom to say what we wanted when we were going after the Right." Will snarled.

"Well, now you've actually managed to win over a few of them, so congratulations. Although, when I say 'win over', what I really mean is that they're making you and Mackenzie poster kids while simultaneously hinting that karma played a role; which, hypocrisy aside is actually managing to win us some sympathy back, so we should use it before we start getting stories saying there is a lack of professionalism around here and people are putting their emotions ahead of their jobs."

Charlie placed a consoling hand on his forearm as Will glared at her.

Leona shrugged, trying to look apologetic. "I'm sorry Will, but there is only so long I can hold them off. As much as Mackenzie's arrival became a bit of a pain in the ass for me, she's a damn good journalist and a good person and I know she didn't deserve this. I know you're close to her and you're a close team down there, but I'm fairly sure a woman like Mackenzie McHale will not thank you if she recovers to find that you're getting all sorts of ridiculous bullshit from other networks because you were too wound up in your own grief to work the story."

Will couldn't even look at the 'I told you so' expression Charlie was aiming in his direction. He knew they were both right.

Clearing his throat, sitting up a little straighter and placing his hands on the desk in front of him to try and stop his fidgeting.

"Have you got any suggestions?" She shot him another sympathetic smile. He wondered if she and Charlie had already started on the Bourbon earlier - this was so unlike her.

"Frankly Will, I'm impressed. If it was me I would have lashed out before now."

"Well, you know...my affable personality and all..."

Charlie leaned forward, obviously deciding it was time to enter the conversation. "Right then. Well, obviously we've been mentioning it every night at the end of the broadcast, and Don and Elliot have been handling slightly more detailed reports, but after the police reports come out later, we'll actually have something to report...hopefully."

"Well we know Mac wasn't the intended target." Will said with a very dry throat.

"We're the only ones who actually _know_ that so far." Charlie added, his hand back on Will's arm.

"OKay. I want you back in the chair tonight, Will." Leona firmly, holding him with a firm gaze. "And I mean _back_. Not that half-Will that's been bumbling along these past couple of days, I mean _you_. Mackenzie's Will. I want you firing back at the people who did this, because you have a right to. We all do. She's one of ours, she's an American journalist and she was innocent. You've done the right thing and not lashed out, but now we can pursue this, and we don't let them get away with it."

"You hate Mackenzie." Will replied dumbly, in a mild state of shock at the words he was hearing from this woman - _this_ woman's - mouth.

"I just explained to you that I do not." She told him calmly. Bewildered, Will looked to Charlie who just raised his eyebrows at him, face inscrutable.

"So, we say that a police investigation is now underway, that Mac was not the target of the shooting -" He stopped, guilt flooding his face. "Should I really be the one saying that?"

Both Charlie and Leona shouted him down. "Yes!"

"If you don't do it, I'll personally tell Mackenzie that you acted like a dumb, pussy-minded scaredy-cat pussy." Charlie said stoutly. Whilst Will was amused by Leona's eyeroll (the pair of them suddenly reminded him a lot of himself and Mac), he still felt very uneasy about going on air and saying that his EP - who as Leona rightly said, everyone already knew he had been in love with - had been shot because of him.

"I'm going to look like a -"

"Like a what?" Leona asked with an air of impatience. "A victim? You're not Will. You're not guilty either. You didn't have your hand on the trigger."

"Like a - I dunno - a coward -"

They didn't even say anything to him, just looked at him with mixtures of confusion and disgust.

"Seriously? Will?" Charlie asked incredulously, though in a much softer voice.

"It was supposed to be me." His voice was strangled, but he met both his bosses' eyes with a ferocity that had been lacking before. "It was supposed to be me and Lonny pulled me down, leaving her just standing there -"

"Lonny was just doing his job -"

"I know! I'm not blaming him, I'm just saying - everyone thinks - you know...what they think about us, and I just _left_ her there unprotected."

There was an odd silence.

"Will," Leona said, in a voice he had never heard her use before. His mother had used that tone with him once after he had let his little brother get lost in the woods one day. "I'd bet this whole company on you not even knowing what was going on when those shots went off. Neither you nor your bodyguard, nor anyone else for that matter could have protected her."

Why the hell was he paying Habib all this money? Leona and Charlie had just talked him down in about five minutes instead of two hours.

"We could look into you doing ACN morning tomorrow if you're feeling uncomfortable about this?" She suggested warily, more than familiar with Will's renowned dislike for making his private life public. "Then we get them to ask you some questions and you can clarify what happened? That should help set the record straight."

They could both see him stiffen at this suggestion, but it was a mark of how deeply his emotions ran that he actually looked like he was considering it. Thankfully Charlie came up with a solution before he had to speak.

"What about one of the staff?"

"You guys were all in Hang Chews." Will said, distracted.

"Yeah, no, I was meaning the security guards. They saw everything. And as of tomorrow they'll be thought of as witnesses. I don't think we can ask Lonny, but those guards are our guys, I think they'll help us out here."

"Not connected to Will or Lonny, no emotional attachments to Mac...I like that." Leona agreed, as Will shot Charlie a grateful look.

"Right. So." Will ran his hands through his hair, trying to kick his brain into gear. "Mac is stable, police are pursuing an investigation, looking into death threats, and an attack on freedom. I'm just saying though, Leona, I'm not going all Fox News here - this isn't going to be some 'we're facing extermination' bullshit; 'immigrants are ruining our way of life'. They'll probably do that, but we're not. This was an isolated incident, not one of the Horsemen come to end us. It deserves trial and punishment, but that's as far as I'm going."

"You'll have all the support you need."

Apparently it was that simple. Will knew there must be a business or publicity side to this that Leona was probably having to think about too, but he knew she was one of them now. He trusted her enough to not want anything to do with it. She could handle the crap on that side.

He held her gaze for a few moments, just to be sure they both knew where they stood. She looked stoicly back at him, no sense or hint of anything other than compassion and support glaring back at him.

Charlie had a small, encouraging smile on his face. He raised his glass (somewhat cheekily, Will thought) and downed the remaining dregs before putting the glass back with a sharp clunk and straightening his jacket, looking like he was now ready...Will wasn't quite sure for what, but he was ready.

"Let's do this then." He thought that he sounded far more confident than he felt. But let that last for a little while longer and they might actually have a chance at getting through another evening. Will stood up, buttoned his jacket again and downed his own Bourbon (earning a look of great approval from Charlie).

"'Attaboy!"

Will muttered something indistinguishable back and pushed himself away from the table, moving towards the lift. He got two paces before he turned back to the two people watching him.

"Thanks. Both of you." He thought he might have seen Leona smile again. Or maybe this really was all a hallucination. The thought had crossed his mind.

Well, if it was he was just going to have to go with it and see where it lead.

"You've secretly always liked Mackenzie, haven't you?" Charlie realized with a sly grin, watching Will step into the elevator. Then he turned to get a look at Leona's face, which was almost neutral. Except for the faint ghost of a smirk.

"I wouldn't like to be on the wrong side of her." Leona hedged, before heading for the next elevator. Charlie's grin widened. That was a veiled compliment coming from Leona.

Finally they were pushing back.

* * *

So I hope that little burst of Mac at the beginning helped a little. Officially four chapters to go, Mac is back into. There's really not long now. I swear. And lots of fluff when she does!

Thanks again for sticking with me you guys! Let me know what you think of Leona :)

x


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